OF  THE 


CHARLES  E.PEARCE 


r  I  ' 


A  QUEEN  OF  THE  PADDOCK 


.  Of  C 


A  QUEEN  OF  THE 
PADDOCK 


BY 

CHARLES  E.  PEARCE 

AUTHOR     OF     ''CORINTHIAN     JACK,"      "LOVE      BESEIGED," 

"THE    EYES     OF     ALICIA,"     "STIRRING     DEEDS     OF     THE 

GREAT    WAR,"    ETC.    ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

BRENTANO'S 

1921. 


Printed  in  Great  Britain. 


A  QUEEN  OF   THE   PADDOCK 

CHAPTER  I 
ON  THE  SEAMY  SIDE 

"  Madame's  coffee  is  ready." 

A  smothered  response  from  the  picture-bed,  with  its 
silken  hangings  and  lace  pillows,  an  impatient  move- 
ment of  the  round  shoulders.  Silence,  broken  by  the 
whisking  of  Fifine's  skirts  as  she  turned  to  open  the 
window,  and  the  persiennes  outside. 

Five  minutes  of  silence  and  blazing  sunlight,  and 
Fifine  spoke  again. 

"  Madame's  coffee  is  getting  cold." 

Madame  probably  found  the  sunlight  somewhat 
trying.  The  long,  dark  lashes  slowly  parted  and 
disclosed  a  pair  of  large  blue  Irish  eyes — beautiful 
eyes  undoubtedly,  innocent-looking  or  wicked  just 
as  the  owner  pleased.  At  this  moment  they  were 
languid  and  slightly  weary.  The  corners  of  the  hand- 
some audacious  mouth  were  curved  a  little  downwards. 
Mdme.  Violetta  Vaughan,  generally  known  as^Mdme. 
Violetta,  and  not  infrequently  as  "  Violetta "  alone, 
had  had  a  restless  night. 

"  Chartreuse,  Fifine,  and  the  eau  de  Cologne  spray," 
said  she  in  a  tired  voice. 

The  first  was  dropped  into  the  coffee,  the  second  was 
showered  on  the  lady's  forehead. 

Under  these  stimulating  and  refreshing  influences 
Mdme.  Violetta  revived  somewhat  and  asked  for  the 
English  papers. 

5 

2132042 


6      A  QUEEX  OF  THE  PADDOCK 

The  season  at  Monte  Carlo  was  almost  over  ;  all 
the  gamblers,  or  nearly  all,  had  departed,  the  hotels 
were  rapidly  discharging  their  waiters,  the  sun  was 
gaining  power,  the  air  was  becoming  stifling,  and  the 
heat  unbearable. 

Mdme.  Violetta  had  stayed  on  simply  because  she 
had  no  plans  ;  but  she  would  have  to  do  something, 
and  so  she  had  sent  for  the  English  papers  to  gain 
inspiration. 

Her  eyes  went  listlessly  over  the  columns.  She 
saw  nothing  that  interested  her  or  that  suggested  a 
welcome  change  from  the  aridity  and  dullness  of  the 
Riviera  in  the  summer  months.  Besides,  the  paper 
was  nearly  a  year  old  ! 

She  was  about  to  throw  it  aside  with  an  impatient 
little  moite  when  her  attitude,  her  expression  of  lassitude, 
suddenly  changed.  She  had  caught  sight  of  a  paragraph 
which  had  taken  her  memory  back  a  few  years. 

The  paragraph  which  had  brought  about  such  a 
magical  transformation  was  in  a  column  of  "  Society 
pars,"  and  ran  thus : — "  Sir  John  Norman,  whose 
health  after  his  recent  bereavement  has  caused  great 
anxiety  to  his  numerous  friends,  has  left  town  with 
his  sister  Miss  Ella  Norman,  for  Normanhurst,  his 
picturesque  mansion  in  Sussex.  We  understand  he 
intends  presenting  a  stained-glass  window  to  Norman- 
hurst  Church  in  memory  of  the  late  Lady  Norman." 

The  deep  blue  eyes  sparkled,  the  red  lips  curved 
mockingly. 

"  Bereavement — ill  health — stained  glass  window  ! 
How  funny,"  laughed  the  lady.  "  Why,  the  woman 
had  for  ten  )'ears  been  what  the  world  is  pleased  to 
term  mentally  afflicted." 

Then  amusement  departed  from  the  beautiful  face 
and  thought  took  its  place. 

Five  years  before  Violetta  Vaughan  was  a  pupil 
teacher  at  a  fashionable  boarding-school  in  Eastbourne. 
She  had  been  admitted  on  what  is  called  "  mutual 


terms."  In  return  for  her  intimate  acquaintance  with 
French  and  German,  to  be  available,  for  the  school 
in  general,  she  had  received  instruction  in  music,  drawing, 
and  other  "  extras  "  which  go  to  make  up  a  "  finishing 
education." 

But  it  was  not  solely  for  these  accomplishments  that 
Violetta  had  been  sent  to  Montpellier  House.  Captain 
Vaughan,  her  father,  who  if  he  never  seemed  to  be 
blest  with  this  world's  coin,  had  plenty  of  the  world's 
wisdom  and  experience,  told  his  daughter  to  make 
advantageous  acquaintances  among  the  aristocratic 
pupils,  and  she  had  not  failed  to  take  the  parental  advice. 

Ella  Norman,  one  of  these  aristocratic  young  ladies, 
at  the  end  of  her  last  term  invited  Violetta  to  spend 
the  summer  vacation  at  Normanhurst.  Violetta 
accepted  the  invitation  gratefully,  and  as  part  of  her 
vocation  was  to  make  herself  agreeable  and  as  she 
had  in  addition  a  great  capacity  for  getting  all  the 
enjoyment  out  of  life  that  came  in  her  way,  she 
thoroughly  ingratiated  herself  with  the  whole  household, 
and  especially  with  Sir  John  Norman. 

She  had  not  been  twenty-four  hours  in  the  old  mansion 
before  her  quick  brain  had  summed  up  the  character  of 
the  baronet. 

"  Easy-going  —  good-natured  —  susceptible  —  could 
be  fooled  by  any  pretty  woman  who  likes  to  take  the 
trouble  to  flatter  him,"  was  her  summary,  and  she 
was  not  far  out. 

But  what  was  the  use  of  her  wasting  her  blandishments 
when  they  were  likely  to  lead  to  nothing  ?  To  begin 
with,  Sir  John  was  married.  He  was  also  a  grass 
widower,  but  in  his  case  a  loosening  of  the  marriage 
tie  made  no  difference,  and  Violetta  had  not  been  long 
at  Normanhurst  before  she  discovered  this.  Not 
that  it  mattered  very  much  to  her.  She  was  by  no 
means  anxious  for  married  life. 

Lady  Norman  was  then  a  patient  in  a  doctor's  house 
and  likely  to  remain  one.  Her  brain  was  affected. 


S  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

She  had  delusions  and  among  them  was  an  intense 
jealousy  of  her  husband.  She  had  been  pronounced 
incurable. 

The  baronet,  poor  man,  had  never  given  his  wife  the 
slightest  cause  for  uneasiness.  He  had  been  brought  up 
strictly  and  he  had  naturally  a  profound  respect  for 
the  proprieties,  and  a  hatred  of  scandal.  He  was  not 
blessed  (or  cursed)  with  strong  passions,  and  no  one 
was  less  likely  than  he  to  figure  in  the  divorce  court. 

At  this  time  Violetta  was  a  young  woman  of  twenty- 
two  and  of  fascinating  manners.  Though  she  had  not 
long  since  arrived  at  years  of  discretion  she  had  acquired 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  underworld  of 
civilised  life,  which  few  to  look  at  her  would  have 
suspected.  During  her  teens  and  until  her  father 
elected  to  prepare  her  for  another  sphere  in  which  to 
exercise  her  talents,  she  had  had  few  acquaintances 
outside  the  "  horsey  "  circle  of  which  Capt.  Vaughan 
was  the  moving  spirit.  Some  of  the  members  were 
very  shady  individuals  and  it  was  doubtful  whether 
the  gallant  captain  himself  could  be  said  to  reach  a 
high  standard  of  respectability. 

The  extraordinary  thing  was  that  Violetta  never 
betrayed  that  she  had  once  rubbed  shoulders  with  a 
stratum  of  society  represented  by  men  and  women 
whose  only  occupation  appeared  to  be  to  haunt  race 
courses  and  restaurants. 

Violetta  Vaughan  and  Ella  Norman  got  on  fairly 
well  together.  There  was  only  three  years  difference 
between  their  ages,  and  Violetta  never  made  the  mistake 
of  presuming  upon  her  seniority.  Besides,  she  had 
infinite  tact  and  was  really  clever  and  amusing.  She 
had  had  some  years'  experience  of  Paris,  and  could 
sing  little  French  songs  with  all  the  /verve  and  gesture 
of  a  cafe  chantant  star.  But  she  was  always  very 
discreet  in  her  selection  and  performance  when  Sir 
John  was  present. 

Violetta  enjoyed  herself  immensely  at  Normanhurst. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  o. 

She  was  passionately  fond  of  horses  and  rode  as  one 
to  the  manner  born.  Sir  John  Norman  had  a  stable 
of  fine  hunters,  and  when  he  showed  her  his  stud  he 
was  amazed  at  her  knowledge  of  horseflesh,  and  her 
shrewdness  in  pointing  out  the  good  qualities  and  the 
defects  of  the  various  animals. 

He  was  still  more  amazed  at  her  boldness  and  dexterity 
in  the  hunting  field.  But  her  father  had  been  a  cavalry 
officer,  and  after  he  left  the  army  had,  among  other 
speculations,  started  a  riding  school,  and  from  her 
earliest  years  Violetta  had  been  used  to  the  saddle. 

Violetta  left  Normanhurst  with  the  promise  made 
both  to  Ella  and  Sir  John  (who  showed  great  warmth 
in  his  invitation)  to  repeat  her  visit  at  no  distant  date. 

She  intended  to  keep  her  word,  but  the  unexpected 
happened.  A  crisis  came  in  her  life,  and  she  turned 
her  back  on  respectability — at  least,  what  is  so  termed 
in  England.  Abroad,  manners  and  ideas  are  more 
elastic. 

It  was  all  through  that  ne'er-do-well  father  of  hers. 
He  had  been  thriftless,  and  unscrupulous,  and  when 
in  the  army  he  had  gone  through  the  Boer  War  with 
credit  so  far  as  mere  fighting  was  concerned,  but  on 
his  return  to  England,  it  had  been  found  necessary 
for  him  to  throw  up  his  commission  to  prevent  awkward 
consequences.  It  was  suspected  that  at  cards  his 
luck  was  more  than  phenomenal. 

After  many  vicissitudes  he  ran  a  sort  of  gambling 
and  betting  club.  This  was  soon  after  Violetta's  visit 
to  Normanhurst.  She  had  had  enough  of  pupil  teaching, 
she  had  acquired  the  smart  society  air,  and  Capt. 
Vaughan  saw  how  useful  she  could  be  to  him. 

He  gauged  her  determination  and  business  capacity 
correctly,  and  he  had  no  hesitation  in  placing  her  in 
charge  of  the  buffet  at  the  club.  He  knew  she  could 
take  care  of  herself  without  losing  any  of  her  fascination. 
She  had  the  power  of  keeping  the  rather  rowdy  members 
in  their  place.  Sometimes  a  new  man  attracted  by  her 


to  A   QUEEN   0$   THE 

striking  appearance  endeavoured  to  pay  her  obtrusive 
attention.  He  soon  found  out  his  mistake. 

Apart  from  her  management  of  the  buffet  she  took 
a  great  interest  in  the  race  course.  She  was  as  well 
up  in  betting  mysteries  as  the  most  expert  turfite,  and 
if  she  cared  she  would  have  been  a  most  successful 
bookmaker.  The  same  with  cards.  There  was  not 
a  game  which  she  did  not  know  from  A  to  Z.  Few 
could  beat  her  at  "  poker  "  or  "  bridge,"  if  she  held 
the  cards,  but  she  was  nearly  always  unlucky. 

She  was  a  puzzle  to  men.  When  she  was  in  the 
mood,  she  could  flirt  as  few  women  could,  but  with 
her  it  was  much  the  same  as  playing  a  game  of  cards. 
She  would  lead  a  man  on,  only  to  treat  him  with  in- 
difference. 

Was  she  capable  of  love  ?  No  one  could  tell.  She 
was  an  enigma.  Yet  there  were  moments  when  a 
light  flashed  in  the  mystic  eyes  which  served  to  say 
that  deep  in  her  nature  were  the  elements  of  a  fire 
which  if  kindled  might  blaze  up  with  irresistible  force. 

One  morning  before  the  members  began  to  drop  in 
and  when  Violetta  was  making  preparations  for  the 
day's  business,  Captain  Vaughan  sauntered  in  smoking 
a  cigar.  Said  he  in  a  casual  way  : 

"  This  show's  cracked  up,  Vi." 

"  I'm  not  surprised,"  she  rejoined,  quite  as  cool  as 
her  father.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Scoot.     Paris.     How  does  that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  It's  what  you  should  have  done  long  ago.  I  told 
you  the  club  was  not  swell  enough  to  bring  you  in 
any  money.  It's  too  low  down  and  always  will  be.'" 

"  You've  hit  the  right  nail  on  the  head,  my  girl,  as 
you  generally  do.  No  chance  of  airing  your  graces 
and  accomplishments.  They're  wasted  here.  A  pity, 
too,  after  laying  in  a  stock  of  "  high  tone  "  at  that 
Eastbourne  place." 

Violetta  shrugged  her  shapely  shoulders,  and  a  gleam 
shot  into  her  eyes  as  much  as  to  say  that  there  was 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  11 

still  plenty  of  time  to  show  what  talent  she  possessed. 

She  was  glad  the  club  had  come  to  an  end.  She 
hated  the  men  with  whom  she  had  to  mix.  They  were 
most  of  them  "  bookies  "  and  hangers-on  of  the  turf 
in  various  capacities.  Many  of  them  were  somewhat 
mysterious  in  their  ways,  and  what  they  did  for  a  living 
in  the  off  season  when  racing  was  over  was  only  known 
to  themselves. 

Occasionally  men  of  a  different  character  found 
their  way  into  the  club,  or,  to  speak  correctly,  were 
introduced.  They  were  chief!}'  young  fools  who,  with 
more  money  than  brains,  were  "  seeing  life,"  often 
at  bitter  cost  to  their  pockets  and  health.  Some  of 
them  were  of  the  vulgar  rich  variety,  and  these  Violetta 
effectually  kept  at  a  distance,  and  left  them  to  fool 
themselves  to  the  top  of  their  bent.  Others  were  of 
good  birth  and  sowed  their  wild  oats  out  of  a  super- 
abundance of  high  spirits.  They  had  no  vice  ;  they 
were  simply  reckless,  and  when  Violetta  took  sufficient 
interest  in  any  of  them  she  whispered  warnings  against 
certain  members  of  the  club — warnings  which  somehow 
got  known  to  the  riffraff,  whose  deadly  hatred  she 
incurred  accordingly. 

Violetta  held  her  own  and  was  indifferent  to  what 
these  disreputable  personages  thought  of  her,  but  the 
life  was  not  pleasant,  and  she  was  heartily  tired  of  it. 
So  she  gladly  went  off  with  her  father  to  Paris — that 
Paris  she  knew  so  well  and  loved  as  a  child  and  where 
she  felt  more  at  home  than  in  London. 

The  journey  was  a  secret  and  a  hurried  one.  Captain 
Vaughan  scraped  together  all  the  money  he  could 
lay  hold  of  and  established  himself  in  Paris  as  a 
"  prophet."  He  was  possessed  of  a  list  of  the  names 
and  addresses  of  English  patrons  of  the  turf,  and  he 
got  together  a  number  of  subscribers  to  his  weekly 
racing  sheet.  He  might  have  done  well,  but  he  chose 
to  buy  a  steeplechaser  and  pose  as  a  gentleman  rider. 
He  broke  his  neck  at  Autueil. 


Violetta  backed  horses  and  systematically  disregarded 
her  father's  tips.  Perhaps  that  was  why  she  frequently 
won.  After  Captain  Vaughan's  death,  she  took  a 
dislike  to  the  betting  fraternity,  but  the  gambling  spirit 
was  strong  within  her  and  she  went  off  to  Monte  Carlo 
to  try  her  luck  at  the  Casino. 

But  the  good  fortune  that  attended  her  on  the  turf 
deserted  her  at  the  gaming  table.  She  struggled  half 
way  through  the  season  and  came  to  the  end  of  her 
resources. 

Then  in  some  curious  way  it  got  whispered  about 
that  though  she  had,  to  use  her  own  words,  "  infernally 
bad  luck,"  yet  she  brought  luck  to  others." 

With  her  usual  shrewdness  she  utilised  this  reputation 
of  her's — she  became  a  "  Mascot te  "  and  she  found  it 
pay.  Of  course,  she  could  not  always  win,  but  certain 
it  was  that  when  she  staked  for  other  people  her  luck 
was  amazing,  and  at  times  she  was  loaded  with  presents. 
"  La  Mascotte,  Violetta,"  became  the  rage. 

The  paper  dropped  from  her  hand  as  the  serious  look 
came  into  her  eyes,  and  she  rang  the  bell  impatiently. 

"  Fifine,"  she  cried,  "  pack  up  at  once.  I  leave  to-day 
for  Paris." 

"  Madame  !  "  exclaimed  the  startled  maid. 

"  I  spoke  plainly,  didn't  I  ?  I'm  tired  of  posing  as  a 
"  mascotte "  for  other  people.  I  am  going  to  play 
the  part  for  myself.  Make  haste.  To-day  I  bid  farewell 
for  ever  to  Monte  Carlo.  No  more  rouge-et-noir — no 
more  Russian  Princes  with  Tartar  faces  and  French 
Counts  with  tigerish  eyes.  England,  Fifine,  Eng- 
land !  " 

"  Madame  will  kill  herself  with  ennui  and  the  fog," 
said  Fifine,  with  a  shrug  of  her  pretty  round  shoulders. 

But  she  packed  Madame's  trunks  nevertheless. 

Violetta  went  through  her  hotel  account  and  her 
exchequer.  The  first  was  larger  and  the  second  was 
smaller  than  she  expected.  She  had  enough  to  leave 
Monaco  with  a  clear  conscience  and  to  pay  her  fare 


13 

to  England,  but  this  by  itself  did  not  suffice.  She 
must  have  funds  when  she  arrived  in  London. 

All  that  day  she  was  in  a  dozen  different  moods. 
She  was  angry  with  Fifine  about  nothing  at  all  one 
moment  and  was  almost  apologetic  the  next.  The 
girl  understood  perfectly  well  what  was  the  matter. 
Madame  (Violetta  by  the  way,  always  termed  herself 
"  Madame,"  and  though  she  never  said  precisely  that 
she  had  been  married  she  allowed  people  to  think  so — 
the  assumption  she  found  gave  her  more  freedom) 
was  suffering  from  "  nerves." 

The  emotional  Fifine  was  considerate  and  sympathetic. 
Who  would  not  be  in  a  bad  temper  at  the  thought  of 
exchanging  the  sunny  skies  and  the  gaiety  of  the  Riviera 
for  the  smoke  and  drabness  of  London  ?  The  girl 
was  not  a  bit  surprised  when  her  mistress  suddenly 
announced  that  she  intended  to  defer  her  departure 
until  the  next  day. 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  Casino  to-night  "  she  declared. 

The  step  was  a  desperate  one,  but  what  other  way 
was  there  ? 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  MAGIC  OF  A  "  MASCOTTE  " 

THE  opalescent  sky  was  unflecked  by  a  single  cloud. 
The  moon  shone  so  brightly  that  everything  was  revealed 
as  distinctly  as  though  it  were  day.  The  shadows  where 
ever  they  were  cast  were  as  black  as  ink,  and  their 
very  blackness  seemed  to  accentuate  the  light  elsewhere. 
Violetta  hurried  through  the  Casino  gardens  indifferent 
to  everything  save  her  resolve  to  "plunge,"  whatever 
might  be  the  outcome.  The  flamboyant  nondescript 
architecture  of  the  Casino  with  its  elaborate  ornamented 


14  A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

front  and  dual  towers  did  not  appeal  to  her,  picturesque 
though  it  looked  now  that  its  vulgarities  were  subdued 
by  the  pale  light  of  the  moon.  The  trim  garden  where 
European  and  Eastern  shrubs  grew  with  equal  luxuriance 
might  have  been  a  wilderness  for  any  thought  she 
bestowed  upon  it. 

Signs  of  the  waning  season  were  evident  in  the  small 
numbers  of  visitors  strolling  towards  the  Casino  and 
promenading  the  terrace  overlooking  the  mirror-like 
sea.  There  was  hardly  a  breath  of  wind  to  disturb 
the  heated  air.  The  refreshing  coolness  of  the  night 
was  gone.  Before  many  days  had  passed  Monte  Carlo 
so  delightful  in  the  winter,  would  be  unendurable. 

As  Violetta  drew  near  the  portals  of  the  Casino  she 
heard  the  faint  sound  of  music.  It  came  from  the  opera 
house  ;  part  of  the  attractions  of  the  famous  gambling 
resort.  "  Carmen "  was  being  played.  The  opera 
was  a  favourite  with  Violetta  but  it  did  not  detain 
her  now.  Within  a  minute  or  two  she  had  entered  the 
gambling  salon. 

There  were  not  many  punters,  the  usual  tourists 
had  had  their  fling,  had  spent  their  available  cash  and 
had  departed,  some  back  to  the  decorum  and  monotony 
of  the  warehouse,  the  counting  house,  and  the  stock 
exchange  ;  others  to  make  up  their  losses  at  rouge- 
et-noir,  with  the  opening  of  flat  racing — or  to  increase 
them. 

Violetta  cast  a  rapid  glance  round  the  table.  Had 
she  chosen  to  assume  her  old  role  of  "  Mascotte  "  she 
would  have  had  small  opportunities.  The  princes 
and  grand  dukes,  Russian,  Rumanian  and  Bulgarian 
had  departed.  A  few  fat  Belgian  manufacturers  and 
merchants  remained,  but  they  had  no  imagination, 
they  did  not  believe  in  "  mascottes."  As  for  the  women, 
Violetta  had  never  found  them  patronise  her.  To 
begin  with,  she  was  too  good  looking,  and  apart  from 
this,  the  women  gamblers  generally  looked  upon  each 
other  with  hatred  and  jealousy.  Had  it  been  otherwise 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  15 

these  ladies  who  were  seated  at  the  table  had  far  too 
profound  a  belief  in  their  own  judgment  to  trust  to 
that  of  others. 

There  they  were  now,  old  painted  harridans  with 
the  faces  of  hawks  and  the  necks  of  vultures;  middle- 
aged  matrons,  most  of  them  running  to  fat,  and  young 
women,  outrageously  decollete,  worn,  haggard,  and  old 
before  their  time. 

But  whatever  might  be  their  faces  and  figures,  they 
all  had  the  same  look  in  their  eyes — the  strained,  eager, 
glassy  concentrated  stare  of  the  inveterate  gambler. 
The  excitement  of  play  had  become  part  of  their  lives — 
it  might  also  be  said  of  their  deaths. 

It  was,  Violetta  considered,  a  most  uninteresting 
crowd.  She  knew  the  types  by  heart.  Nor  were  the 
visitors  wandering  about  or  standing  gazing  at  the 
revolving,  fateful  little  ball,  and  the  rakes  of  the  croupiers 
like  the  extended  claws  of  some  gigantic  carrion  bird, 
less  so.  She  took  a  vacant  seat  and  watched  the 
fluctuations  of  the  game  before  she  chanced  her  luck. 

The  room  big  as  it  was,  was  intensely  hot.  The 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  monotonous  voice  of  the 
croupier  with  his  eternal  "  Rien  ne  va  plus,"  followed 
by  the  proclamation  of  the  winning  colour,  was 
oppressive.  Both  were  getting  on  her  nerves,  she 
wou)d  not  be  able  to  retain  her  impatience  much  longer. 

She  had  no  belief  in  systems,  she  had  seen  too  many 
come  to  grief  in  horse  racing  circles,  but  she  could  not 
help  counting  the  number  of  times  red  had  won.  A 
sequence  of  six  had  brought  luck  to  a  few.  Would  it  be 
maintained  to  the  next  round,  the  mystic  number  of 
seven  ?  She  was  strongly  tempted,  but  she  who  hesitates 
is  lost,  she  delayed  and  was  half  a  second  too  late. 
The  decisive  "  Rien  ne  va  plus  "  had  beaten  her,  again 
red  was  declared. 

It  could  go  on  no  longer  she  told  herself,  and  when 
the  time  came  for  placing  the  stakes  she  threw  down  a 
too  franc  note  on  the  black.  She  saw  it  swept  away. 


16  A   QUEEN    OF    THE    PADDOCK 

It  was  no  consolation  to  her  that  a  man  standing  behind 
her  chair  had  lost  ten  times  more  than  she  had. 

She  was  angered  but  not  discouraged.  She  ventured 
another  100  francs  again  on  the  black.  The  man 
behind  her  did  not  stake. 

"  Much  wiser  to  cut  your  losses  at  once  "  she  heard 
him  whisper. 

And  so  it  would  have  been.  Once  more  she  lost. 
She  was  the  poorer  by  200  francs,  and  she  wanted  to 
make  at  least  a  thousand. 

Violetta  had  brought  with  her  400  francs.  It  was 
inconceivable  that  red  should  be  eternally  the  winning 
colour.  Already  eight  times !  She  had  never  seen 
the  like  of  it,  surely  this  monotony  could  not  go  on. 
If  she  plunged  with  all  she  had  got  and  won,  she  would 
get  all  she  wished  for  and  more.  Some  mysterious 
tempter  was  urging  her  on,  She  would  not  allow 
herself  to  think,  but  swiftly  dragged  out  her  small 
parcel  of  notes  and  adhered  to  the  black  which  had 
hitherto  played  her  false. 

"  I  warned  you,"  said  the  voice  behind. 

She  made  a  gesture  of  impatience ;  this  stranger 
who  persisted  in  interfering  with  his  superflous  warnings 
was  a  nuisance.  Had  she  not  been  so  absorbed  in 
the  game  she  would  have  administered  a  sharp  rebuke. 
But  she  remained  silent,  under  a  strain  upon  her  nerves 
which  was  almost  too  much  for  her  powers  of  endurance. 
She  sat  with  tightly  compressed  lips  and  slowly  paling 
cheeks  watching  the  revolution  of  the  fiendish  little 
ball.  It  moved  slower  and  slower,  then  seemed  to 
tremble  and  be  uncertain  what  to  do.  It  hovered 
between  red  and  black.  It  stopped.  Red  !  Violetta 
pushed  her  chair  a  few  inches  from  the  table,  and 
remained  motionless.  She  felt  as  if  her  heart  had 
ceased  to  beat. 

Then  she  rose.  The  nerve  tension  and  the  consequent 
re-action  had  become  unbearable.  While  within  the 
scene  of  her  disaster  and  with  the  mechanical  chant  of 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  17 

the  croupier  in  her  ears  she  could  not  think.  And  she 
had  so  much  to  think  about ! 

She  wheeled  swiftly  round  to  fly  from  the  hateful 
place  and  came  face  to  face  with  the  man  behind  her 
chair.  She  had  forgotten  him,  but  his  presence  there 
reminded  her  of  his  warning.  She  took  a  dislike  to  him 
because  his  warnings  had  been  justified, 

"  My  chair  is  at  your  service,"  said  she  coldly. 
"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  play  according  to  your 
judgment.  It  seems  to  have  been  quite  accurate 
as  far  as  I'm  concerned.'" 

She  spoke  to  him  in  English  for  he  had  all  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  characteristics. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  he.     "  Have  you  lost  heavily  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  dare  say  you  saw  what  I  staked." 

"  That  isn't  the  point.  The  stake  doesn't  count. 
It's  what  you  can  afford  to  lose  that  matters." 

"  Then  if  you  care  to  know,  I  can  afford  to  lose 
nothing." 

Violetta  had  not  intended  to  talk  so  much  to  a  perfect 
stranger,  especially  as  when  she  was  gone  he  would 
probably  chuckle  at  her  obstinacy  in  disregarding  his 
advice.  She  was  about  to  walk  away,  but  he  detained 
her. 

"  I  understand.  Pardon  me  for  making  the  sugges- 
tion, but  can  I  help  you  ?  My  purse  is  at  your  disposal." 

"  No,"  she  flashed. 

"  Don't  be  angry.  I  mean  nothing  but  a  desire  to 
be  of  use." 

"  You  can  be  of  no  use,"  she  retorted. 

A  cold,  incredulous  smile  went  over  his  narrow  face. 
He  was  a  tall,  thin  wiry  man,  slightly  bent  in  the 
shoulders.  His  complexion  was  of  an  even  brownish 
tinge — the  complexion  of  one  who  lived  much  in  the 
open  air.  The  narrowness  of  his  features  was  ac- 
centuated by  his  long  straight  nose,  his  thin  lips,  and 
slightly  pointed  chin.  His  eyes  were  grey  and  quite 
expressionless.  There  was  something  about  him  and 


i8  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

his  figure  which  seemed  familiar  to  her.  His  whole 
appearance  took  her  mind  back  to  the  days  at  her 
father's  club,  and  to  the  race  courses  at  Auteuil  and 
Chantilly.  She  knew  the  cut  of  a  racing  man.  No 
one  better. 

Again  she  made  a  movement  to  escape  his  attentions, 
but  he  waved  his  hand  with  a  gesture  of  dissent. 

"  It  might  be  as  well  if  I  told  you  why  you  were 
wrong  in  staking  a  second  time.  May  I  ?  " 

"  For  my  future  benefit,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  though  I  doubt  if  it  will  make  much  difference. 
I  guess  you're  a  woman  who  will  always  go  her  own  way. 
You  noticed  I  dare  say  that  I  also  lost  and  then  ceased 
to  play." 

"  Yes,  you  hadn't  the  courage  to  go  on,  I  presume," 
she  rejoined  a  little  contemptuously. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  was  simply  acting  on  a  system  that's 
fairly  safe.  It  was  laid  down  by  the  founder  of  the 
casino,  M.  Blanc." 

"  An  excellent  authority  since  he  made  a  fortune  out 
of  the  losses  of  his  patrons,"  she  replied  still  more  scorn- 
fully. 

"  And  therefore  he  was  likely  to  know.  Anyhow,  his 
advice  is  worth  remembering,  and  so  far  as  my  experience 
has  gone  it  is  well  founded.  Of  course  the  real  safe 
system  is  never  to  play,  but  short  of  that,  said  M.  Blanc, 
the  game  is  to  stake  once  and  once  only  each  night.  I've 
always  adhered  to  that  rule,  and  I've  generally  found 
myself  on  the  winning  side  in  the  long  run." 

"  Thank  you.  I'll  not  forget,"  she  returned  ironically. 
"  But  I  fear  I  shan't  be  able  to  test  your  admirable 
method.  This  is  probably  my  last  visit  to  the  tables. 
The  casino  closes  next  week.  I  wish  you  good  even- 
ing." 

"  Wait  one  moment.  I've  noticed  you  here  many 
times  but  I've  never  before  to-night  seen  you  play. 
I'm  told  you  are  a  wonderful  '  mascotte.'  Is  it 
true  ?  " 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  19 

"  That  I'm  wonderful  ?  I  can't  say.  I've  never 
thought  about  it." 

"  You  said  just  now  I'd  no  courage.  I  should  like 
to  show  you  that  you're  wrong." 

"  Oh,  you  can  easily  do  that,  but  you  must  excuse 
me  if  I  do  not  remain  to  see  you  prove  your  assertion. 
I'm  not  interested  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  I  don't  mean  that.  I  wanted  to  test  my  courage 
with  your  assistance.  I  should  like  you  to  act  as  my 
'  mascotte.'  " 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  must  refuse.  I'm  retiring  from 
the  profession." 

In  spite  of  her  words  she  was  interested,  not  perhaps 
in  the  man  himself  as  in  his  quiet  pertinacity. 

"  I  congratulate  you.  At  the  same  time  I  observe 
that  you  did  not  say  you  had  retired.  Please  oblige  me — 
once." 

She  hesitated.  The  talk  had  done  her  good.  Her 
nervous  system  was  recovering  its  tone.  A  reckless 
indifference  had  seized  her — a  not  uncommon  frame  of 
mind,  as  most  gamblers  who  see  themselves  "  stony 
broke  "  will  probably  admit. 

"  Oh,  as  you  please,"  she  returned  carelessly. 

"  Thanks.  Will  you  resume  your  seat  ?  Luck  is 
with  us.  There  are  now  two  vacant  chairs  side  by  side." 

Violetta  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  without  another 
word  sat  herself  down  in  one  seat  and  her  companion 
took  the  other. 

"  Which  colour  is  it  to  be  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  Wait.  I  never  look  at  the  table 
while  the  mood's  on  me.  It  hasn't  come  yet." 

She  closed  her  eyes.  Five  minutes  went  over.  The 
man  appeared  to  take  as  little  interest  in  the  table's 
fluctuations  as  she  did.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  face. 
The  resting  of  her  eyelids  on  the  smooth  cheek  gave  a 
sort  of  madonna  aspect  to  her  face.  His  eyes  seemed 
to  lose  their  coldness  as  he  gazed  upon  her. 

Suddenly  she  spoke, 


20  A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  Red,"  he  heard  her  whisper.  Her  eyes  remained 
closed. 

Swiftly  he  threw  a  couple  of  notes  on  the  table.  Red 
won. 

"  Marvellous,"  said  he,  as  he  gathered  up  his  winnings. 
"  Try  again.  I'm  done  with  my  system — for  to-night  at 
any  rate." 

Once  more  a  long  pause.  "  Black  "  was  her  next 
pronouncement.  Black  it  was.  The  third  time  she 
was  wrong.  The  fourth  and  fifth  attempts  were 
correct. 

"  That's  enough.  I'm  satisfied.  We  won't  tempt 
fortune  any  further.  Your  winnings  amount  to  £500." 

"  My  winnings  ?  " 

"Certainly.     I've  lost  nothing.     I  tall  belongs  to  you." 

"  Indeed  it  doesn't.  I  shall  be  quite  contented  with 
ten  per  cent." 

"  You're  very  business-like.  It  is  not  often  that 
women  reckon  by  percentages.  But  this  isn't  a  business 
transaction.  I  look  upon  it  as  a  challenge,  and  you've 
won.  You're  entitled  to  the  stakes." 

He  tried  to  force  a  bundle  of  notes  upon  her,  but  she 
rejected  it. 

"  If  you  won  a  race  through  a  tip  you  wouldn't 
hand  over  all  your  gains  to  the  tipster." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  racing  tips  and  tipsters  ?  " 
he  enquired,  with  a  note  of  surprise  in  his  voice. 

"  As  much  as  I  care  to." 

He  would  have  liked  to  study  her  face  to  read  in  it 
her  character  but  her  eyes  were  wide  open  and  directed 
upon  him,  and  he  could  not  be  so  rude  as  to  stare  as  her. 

"  You're  a  woman  worth  knowing.  For  that  reason 
you  must  take  this  £500.  I  insist  upon  it." 

"  Insist  as  much  as  you  like.     Business  is  business." 

He  was  impressed  by  her  decisive,  emphatic  manner. 
He  took  her  at  her  word. 

"  Very  well.  Let  us  come  to  terms.  Ten  per  cent. 
is  absurd.  Nothing  less  than  half  will  be  fair.  Even 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  21 

so,  I'm  £250  richer  than  I  was  half  an  hour  ago.  How 
does  that  strike  you  ?  " 

Violetta  reflected  for  a  few  moments.  The  sum 
was  not  a  penny  more  than  she  could  do  with.  After 
all,  she  had  earned  it.  And  as  he  reminded  her,  he 
also  had  done  very  well.  She  consented  to  the 
arrangement. 

"Do  we  part  in  this  formal  fashion  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  she  rose  after  accepting  the  notes. 

"  Yes.     There's  nothing  more  to  be  said." 

"  Probably,  so  far  as  you're  concerned.  But  what 
about  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  help  you.  We've  finished  our  business  I 
take  it." 

He  made  no  reply  and  they  walked  silently  to  the 
vestibule.  He  continued  by  her  side  to  the  terrace. 
A  slight  mist  was  rising  and  the  evergreens  and  the 
feathery  palms  looked  fairylike,  unreal. 

"  How  do  you  work — your  mascotte  magic,  I  mean  ? 
How  does  it  come  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  After  sitting  quietly  I  have  an 
impulse — an  inspiration,  I  suppose  some  people  would 
call  it.  That's  all  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Strange.  Would  your  inspiration  be  of  any  use 
in  other  things — the  running  at  a  horse  race,  for 
instance  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why  not  ?     The  result's  the  same  in  both — luck." 

"  Is  it  ?  A  dozen  things  may  affect  a  horse  and 
decide  whether  he  wins  or  loses.  It's  only  one  thing 
with  the  ball  in  rouge  et  noir  or  roulette.  I  can't  think 
of  a  horse  as  an  inanimate  block  of  wood  or  ivory. 
Besides,  I  must  look  at  a  horse  race — I  can't  help  it — 
and  looking  is  fatal  to  my  power — if  I  have  a  power." 

Violetta  had  suddenly  changed  her  tone  and  manner. 
Both  had  lost  their  coldness.  Her  natural  vivacity 
had  asserted  itself  as  it  always  did  when  she  talked 
about  horses. 


22  A      UEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 


"  I  see.     So  you're  fond  of  racing." 

"  I  love  it." 

"  And  horses  too.  I've  seen  you  riding  at  Mentone. 
You're  a  splendid  horsewoman." 

"  Am  I  ?     You're  a  good  judge,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I'm  called  one,  anyhow." 

Insensibly  they  fell  into  horsey  talk.  It  was  the  one 
subject  that  Violetta  loved  to  discuss,  but  only  with 
those  who  understood.  Soon  reminiscences  of  famous 
races  at  Epsom,  Newmarket,  Doncaster,  in  the  years 
prior  to  Captain  Vaughan's  sudden  flight  to  Paris  crept 
in,  and  they  discovered  their  recollections  coincided. 

"  Do  you  remember  Plymouth  Rock's  running  in 
the  St.  Leger  four  years  ago  ?  "  suddenly  asked 
Violetta. 

The  man's  face  darkened  and  his  straight  brows 
contracted. 

"  Yes,  too  well." 

"  A  jockey  named  Loram  was  up.  He  pulled  that 
race." 

"  Did  he  ?     How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  It  doesn't  matter  how.     I  only  say  he  did." 

"  I  won't  contradict  you  because  I  can't.  Had 
Loram  not  run  on  the  cross  Plymouth  Rock  would 
have  won  hands  down.  No  one  can  speak  with  better 
authority  than  I  for  I  took  odds  on  the  horse." 

"  You  did  ?     What's  your  name  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  if  you  tell  me  yours." 

"  No.     I  don't  wish  to." 

"  Right  ;  then  I'll  keep  mine  to  myself." 

Violetta  laughed  lightly.  She  really  did  not  care 
who  he  was  She  had  only  asked  the  question  out  of 
idle  curiousity. 

"  I'd  better  say  good-night,"  she  went  on  after  a 
pause.  "  Thank  you  for  employing  me  and  for  your 
liberal  commission." 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  ?  " 

"  Every  word." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  23 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  he  could  not  choose  but 
take  it. 

"  I've  a  favour  to  ask.  Will  you  dine  with  me  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  miles  away  by  then." 

"  Are  you  leaving  ?  " 

"  Yes.     What's  the  use  of  staying  here  any  longer  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  I  thought  perhaps  to-morrow  you'd 
like  to  repeat  your  success  of  to-night." 

"  No.     I've  had  enough." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?     London  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  made  up  my  mind.  May  be  and  may  be 
not." 

"  If  you  do  I  hope  to  see  something  of  you.  We 
might  meet  at  Epsom  or  Ascot." 

"  We  might.  Ever  so  many  things  might  happen. 
I  don't  pretend  to  see  into  the  future." 

"  I  believe  you  can  do  much  more  that  way  than  you 
imagine." 

"  That's  possible,  too." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment  and  fingered  his  chin 
reflectively. 

"  You  would'nt  care  to  go  into  partnership  ?  "  said 
he  at  last. 

"  With  you  ?  " 

"  That  was  in  my  mind." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  Purely  business." 

"  You  are  still  on  the  turf  then  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Violetta's  eyes  went  over  his  hard  face. 

"  No,"  said  she  with  decision.     "  Good-night." 

He  did  not  attempt  to  persuade  her  to  remain  with 
him,  and  for  this  she  was  grateful.  She  was  anxious 
to  return  to  her  rooms  and  give  Fifine  her  final 
instructions. 

So  they  parted,  and  he  watched  her  glide  away  until 
her  graceful  figure  was  lost  in  the  black  shadows. 


24  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 


CHAPTER  III 
"  Vr.  VAUGHAN  OR  HER  GHOST,  AND  HANDSOMER 

THAN    EVER  " 

VIOLETTA  knew  her  Paris.  She  did  not  bother  about 
the  expensive  hotels,  but  made  straight  for  the  Hotel 
Provence,  an  old-world  establishment  south  of  the 
Seine  and  not  far  from  the  Boulevard  St.  Michel  and 
its  cafe's,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  Bohemian  students. 

She  had  stayed  at  the  hotel  more  than  once  and  was 
practically  an  old  friend  of  M.  Octave  Lange,  the  fat 
good-humoured  bald-headed  proprietor.  He  welcomed 
her  with  effusion.  She  had  on  several  occasions  proved 
highly  useful  to  him  in  acting  as  an  interpreter  when 
English  or  American  tourists  found  their  way  to  the 
Hotel  Provence.  Whether  through  disinclination  or 
incapacity  Octave  Lange  had  not  been  able  to  acquire 
more  than  one  or  two  English  phrases,  and  these  were 
so  tinged  with  a  Gallic  pronunciation  as  to  be  almost 
unintelligible.  So  he  had  found  the  services  of  "  Mees 
Vown "  exceedingly  valuable,  and  he  showed  his 
gratitude  by  the  smallness  of  his  charges. 

By  good  luck  her  old  room  on  the  ground  floor  was 
free.  It  opened  into  a  quaint  stone-paved  courtyard 
flanked  by  high  ivy  covered  walls  on  two  sides,  and 
with  a  solitary  plane  tree  which  did  its  best  to  flourish 
under  adverse  circumstances  in  the  centre.  In  the 
days  of  Louis  Quatorze  the  Hotel  Provence  had  been  a 
stately  mansion,  and  some  remains  of  its  former  grandeur 
yet  remained  in  the  size  of  the  rooms,  the  queer  way 
in  which  they  opened  one  into  the  other,  and  in  the 
carvings  and  decorations  of  the  walls  and  ceilings. 

"  Would  Mademoiselle  be  having  her  piano  ?  "  was 
M.  Lange's  enquiry  the  day  after  she  had  taken  up 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  25 

her  quarters.  "  Mees  Vown's  "  playing,  he  had  dis- 
covered, added  to  the  attractions  of  his  establishment. 
He  liked  to  hear  some  of  his  pensionats  ask  who  was  the 
brilliant  pianist  whose  music  was  looked  forward  to 
with  so  much  pleasure. 

Mademoiselle  considered.  So  much  depended  upon 
how  long  she  intended  to  stay.  For  the  moment  she 
had  formulated  no  plans.  But  she  would  want  some 
kind  of  occupation  on  those  evenings  when  she  was 
not  in  the  mood  for  theatre  going,  and  she  decided 
to  hire  an  instrument  week  by  week.  M.  Lange  beamed 
with  satisfaction. 

The  life  at  the  Hotel  Provence  was  placid  and  un- 
eventful, but  not  monotonous.  The  homely  table 
d'hote  was  grateful  to  her  after  the  feverish  excitement 
of  the  Monte  Carlo  banquets.  The  visitors  amused 
her — some  of  them — those  from  the  provinces  especialty, 
with  their  quaint  patois,  the  mixture  of  caution  and 
simplicity  of  their  ideas,  and  the  women's  antiquated 
dresses.  Everything  was  such  a  contrast  to  what  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  during  the  winter  at  the 
Riviera. 

The  weeks  flew  by  and  she  had  not  made  up  her  mind 
what  should  be  her  next  step.  One  thing  was  certain. 
She  could  not  live  for  ever  on  what  she  had  brought 
from  Monte  Carlo.  Still  her  expenses  were  now  so 
small,  it  would  last  a  considerable  time. 

Sir  John  Norman  was  constantly  in  her  thoughts,  but 
was  it  worth  while  troubling  about  him  ?  She  liked 
the  easy-going  baronet  and  she  knew  perfectly  well 
that  if  he  were  free  she  had  but  to  give  him  the  slightest 
encouragement  and  he  would  ask  her  to  be  his  wife. 
His  sister  would  probably  not  like  it,  but  would  that 
matter  very  much  ?  Violetta  could  not  see  that  it 
would.  The  point  was,  could  she  tie  herself  up  to  a 
man  she  only  liked  ? 

There  was,  she  owned,  one  strong  inducement  for  a 
marriage  with  Sir  John  Norman — the  splendid  stabling 


26  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

equipment  at  Normanhurst,  its  paddocks  and  training 
grounds.  Sir  John  had  bred  hunters  ;  why  shouldn't 
he  turn  his  attention  to  breeding  racers  ?  Horses  were 
quite  a  passion  with  her,  and  she  cared  for  no  sport  as 
she  cared  for  horse  racing.  It  was  her  ambition  to 
be  a  successful  owner,  and  above  all  to  be  the  proud 
possessor  of  the  Blue  Riband  of  the  turf  ! 

Sir  John  might  be  cajoled  into  the  idea.  Violetta 
believed  she  could  cajole  him  into  anything.  Ella 
would  most  likely  be  the  obstacle.  She  was  dreamy, 
sentimental,  fond  of  poring  over  poetry  of  the  extreme 
modern  school,  of  sketching,  and  went  mad  over  artists. 
Ella  always  belonged  to  a  "  cult  "  of  some  kind — 
of  what  kind  Violetta  never  cared  to  enquire,  and  it 
might  have  been  theosophy,  spiritualism,  the  abolition 
of  marriage  as  the  only  way  of  reforming  the  iniquitous 
laws  of  divorce,  or  the  worship  of  Omar  Khayam  for 
anything  she  knew.  At  all  events,  Ella  took  not  the 
slightest  interest  in  horses  and  hated  races. 

But  supposing  Sir  John  was  not  to  be  talked  into 
racing  ?  If  this  should  prove  to  be  the  case  the  card 
house  of  her  ambition  would  be  shattered.  She  certainly 
did  not  care  for  the  baronet  sufficiently  to  marry  him 
for  his  own  sake.  Their  temperaments  were  wholly 
antagonistic.  Violetta  was  restless  and  fiery,  Sir  John 
was  placid  and  rather  inclined  to  laze.  His  brain  was 
sluggish  compared  with  hers.  Besides — and  perhaps 
this  secretly  weighed  with  her  more  than  anything — 
she  was  not  drawn  towards  matrimony.  She  revelled 
in  her  independence. 

After  a  time  she  tired  of  Paris  and  she  tired  of  her 
irresolution.  Whatever  might  come  of  it,  she  would 
renew  her  acquaintance  with  Sir  John  Norman.  At 
the  worst  he  might  serve  as  a  stepping  stone  into  the 
world  of  well-to-do  and  maybe  aristocratic  turf 
enthusiasts.  Never  would  she  drift  back  into  the 
ranks  of  her  father's  shady  associates.  Before  her 
determination  vanished,  she  sat  down  and  wrote  : 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  27 

"  Dearest  Ella, — I  wonder  if  you've  forgotten  your 
old  friend  ?  So  much  happens  in  this  little  world  in 
a  short  time  that  it  wouldn't  surprise  me  if  much  more 
important  things  than  our  old  friendship  had  driven 
me  from  your  mind.  Have  you  found  the  man  who 
loves  you  ?  Are  you  married?  I've  often  wondered. 
As  for  me,  I'm  much  the  same — a  rolling  stone  that's 
gathered  very  little  moss.  Since  my  poor  father  died — 
he  was  thrown  when  riding  in  a  steeple  chase — I've 
had  all  kinds  of  posts  and  the  only  result  is  a  little 
more  experience  of  the  world,  which  I  don't  know  that 
I  particularly  wanted.  Anyhow,  I  feel  strongly  tempted 
to  try  my  luck  in  London,  and  I  should  love  dearly 
to  see  you  again.  Do  drop  me  a  line  here  to  say  that 
I  may  hope  to  do  so.  I  shall  be  in  Paris  for  quite  a 
fortnight  and  indeed  would  wait  there  for  your  reply. 
Otherwise  your  letter  might  go  wandering  about  and 
never  be  forwarded  to  me  in  London,  where  at  present 
I've  no  address.  How  is  Sir  John  ?  I  often  think 
of  the  pleasant  time  I  had  at  Normanhurst.  With 
love,  I  am,  yours  sincerely,  your  old  chum,  Violetta 
Vaughan." 

She  read  the  letter  over  twice  and  was  satisfied. 
She  meant  it  simply  as  a  diplomatic  feeler.  She 
purposely  omitted  mentioning  the  paragraph  which 
told  her  of  Lady  Norman's  death.  Not  on  any  account 
would  she  have  Ella  suspect  her  plans,  and  less  still 
let  her  know  what  she  had  been  doing  during  the  last 
five  years.  She  posted  the  letter,  addressing  it  to 
Normanhurst,  and  for  the  next  few  days  was  in  a  fever 
of  impatience  for  an  answer. 

The  fortnight  she  had  given  herself  went  over,  but 
no  letter  came  from  Ella. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  Violetta  asked  herself 
angrily.  "  I  suppose  she  intends  to  drop  me.  If  she 
does  she'd  have  a  good  excuse.  I  ought  to  have  written 
at  once  on  the  death  of  poor  old  dad.  But  I  thought 
she  might  have  looked  upon  it  as  an  attempt  to  sponge 


28  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

upon  her.  She  knew  perfectly  well  I  was  always  more 
or  less  hard  up." 

She  wondered  if  the  letter  would  reach  her  friend. 
Ella  might  be  travelling  abroad  with  her  brother. 
Naturally,  the  death  of  Lady  Norman  would  make  a 
difference,  if  not  so  much  to  her,  certainly  to  Sir  John. 

"  Perhaps  she'll  consider  it  her  duty  to  watch  over 
him  and  protect  him  from  designing  women.  He'll 
need  it.  He's  one  of  the  men  who  are  lost  without 
a  wife,  and  drawing  a  blank  in  his  first  plunge  in  the 
marriage  sweepstakes  wouldn't  prevent  him  trying 
again.  I  won't  bother  any  more  about  him.  There'll 
be  Kempton  Park  at  Easter,  and  I  ought  to  be  in  London. 
With  £200  one  might  do  something.  I  see  nothing  else 
in  view." 

But  the  next  day  changed  her  opinion.  She  received 
Ella  Norman's  answer,  Her  face  grew  grave  as  she 
read  : 

"  Dearest  Violctta, — It  was  a  delightful  surprise 
to  see  your  handwriting  again.  As  you  say,  much 
has  happened  since  we  last  met,  and  so  much  that  was, 
and  still  is,  miserable,  that  I  can  hardly  bear  to  write 
about  it.  The  death  of  poor  Alice  in  the  doctor's  house 
where  she  has  dragged  out  her  miserable  existence  for 
so  long  can  scarcely  be  considered  a  misfortune. 
Indeed,  it  was  a  happy  release,  but  it  came  too  late  to 
be  of  any  relief  to  poor  John.  Of  course,  while  she 
was  alive  she  was  a  source  of  constant  anxiety  to  him, 
but  for  some  time  previous  to  her  death  he  could  not 
have  thought  much  about  her.  He  had  too  many 
other  worries  on  his  mind.  And  yet  in  a  way  Alice 
was  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble.  Soon  after  you  went 
I  noticed  a  change  in  him.  He  moped  horribly.  He 
seemed  to  crave  for  excitement,  and  this  was  so  strange, 
for  he  always  appeared  to  be  happy  with  his  horses 
and  dogs  and  pottering  about  with  his  farming  stock. 
Then  he  suddenly  changed  again.  He  had  alternate 
fits  of  melancholy  and  buoyancy,  and  I  don't  know 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  29 

which  troubled  me  most.  The  explanation  came 
eventually.  He  had  taken  to  betting,  and  lost  over 
and  over  again,  and  was  heavily  in  debt.  I  can't  go 
into  particulars  now,  but  I  shall  be  only  too  thankful 
to  pour  my  troubles  into  your  sympathetic  ears.  When 
are  you  coming  to  England  ?  Yours  very  sincerely, 
Ella." 

P.S. — Your  letter  was  forwarded  here  from  Norman- 
hurst,  or  of  course  I  should  have  replied  long  ago. 
About  the  man — I  don't  know." 

"  That  means  she  is  engaged  or  about  to  be,"  thought 
Violetta. 

She  tossed  the  letter  on  the  table  impatiently.  Ella's 
engagement  was  of  no  importance,  but  Sir  John  Norman 
with  his  recklessness,  his  ill  luck,  was  a  different  matter. 
She  was  sorry  for  him,  and  angry  with  herself  for  not 
accepting  five  years  before  his  pressing  invitation  to 
stay. 

"  I  daresay  things  would  have  turned  out  differently," 
she  told  herself.  "  But  it  wouldn't  have  done  while 
his  wife  was  alive.  I  believe  I  hate  scandal  as  much 
as  he  does — at  any  rate,  I've  come  to  hate  it." 

And  this  was  true.  Her  experience  at  Monte  Carlo 
in  this  direction  was  a  bitter  one.  She  knew  very  well 
she  was  hated  by  all  the  neurotic  lady  gamesters,  old, 
young,  and  middle-aged,  and  that  she  was  a  perennial 
subject  of  venomous  gossip.  Her  luck  for  others  had 
raised  up  hosts  of  enemies.  It  would  not  have  mattered 
so  much  had  the  luck  been  for  the  benefit  of  her  own 
pocket. 

"  It's  no  consolation,  I  suppose,  that  I've  nothing  to 
reproach  myself  with.  I  went  into  the  "  mascotte  " 
business  with  my  eyes  open,  so  I  can't  be  surprised 
at  the  lies  told  about  me." 

Violetta  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  her  straight  brows 
wrinkled  slightly  as  was  their  wont  when  her  mind 
was  disturbed. 

She  took  the  letter  up  again.     Ella  had  written  from 


30  A   QUEEN   OF   THE    PADDOCK 

the  Willows,  Thameside,  up  the  river,  not  far  from 
Bray. 

"  Shall  I  go  ?  Not  much  good  now  that  the  poor 
man  has  anticipated  my  plans.  I  wonder  if  he  ran 
his  own  horses  ?  " 

She  could  not  decide  offhand  what  to  do,  and  she 
went  out  to  collect  her  thoughts.  She  wandered  along 
the  southern  bank  of  the  Seine  gazing  absently  at 
the  bookstalls,  at  the  gaily  painted  little  steamers, 
at  the  patient  anglers  increasing  in  numbers  as  she 
drew  near  Charenton,  waiting  for  fish  that  never 
came. 

When  she  returned  to  the  Hotel  Provence  she  looked 
in  at  the  proprietor's  little  room. 

"  My  stay  here,  Monsieur  Lange,  has  come  to  an 
end.  I  want  to  leave  to-morrow.  I'm  going  to 
London." 

Monsieur  was  desolated  and  almost  pitying.  He  was 
a  born  Parisian  and  rooted  to  his  native  city.  He 
could  not  conceive  existence  out  of  Paris,  and  in 
England,  of  all  places  in  the  world. 

But  he  raised  no  difficulty  and  the  next  morning 
Violetta  received  a  neatly  written  bill  of  her  expenses. 
The  amount  was  moderate.  Violetta  paid  it  with 
many  thanks,  tipped  the  garcon,  the  femme  de  chambre 
and  the  chef  liberally,  and  departed  from  the  hotel  the 
best  of  friends  with  everybody. 

Arrived  at  Charing  Cross,  she  had  her  luggage  de- 
posited at  the  cloak  room  while  she  engaged  a  room 
at  one  of  the  private  hotels  abounding  in  the  streets 
on  the  south  side  of  the  Strand.  She  wandered  into 
Trafalgar  Square.  Despite  its  reputation  as  being  the 
finest  site  in  Europe,  it  was  just  as  bare  and  ugly  as 
she  remembered  it  and  the  National  Gallery  as  squat 
and  contemptible  as  ever.  London  here  had  not  changed 
a  bit.  She  turned  eastwards.  The  Strand  seemed 
strangely  narrow  after  the  Paris  Boulevards,  the  people 
were  apparently  wholly  intent  on  business  and  without 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE    PADDOCK  31 

the  air  of  abandon  and  interest  in  the  surroundings 
which  marks  a  continental  crowd.  A  feeling  of  solitude 
and  friendlessness  crept  over  her.  She  was  beginning 
to  wish  she  had  not  left  Paris. 

Then  she  roused  herself  and  in  a  business-like  manner 
went  through  the  tiresome  task  of  selecting  rooms, 
impressing  managers  and  manageresses  with  the  con- 
viction that  she  was  a  young  lady  who  knew  her  way 
about  and  was  not  to  be  imposed  upon.  Finally,  she 
settled  upon  her  hotel  and  had  her  luggage  conveyed 
thither.  Then  after  a  rest  and  sleep  (she  had  crossed 
from  Dieppe  by  the  night  boat  and  was  dead  tired), 
she  made  a  careful  toilette,  wrote  to  Ella  to  say  she 
would  run  down  to  The  Willows  very  shortly,  and 
sallied  forth  to  lunch. 

She  went  as  if  by  instinct  to  a  restaurant  hardly  a 
stone's  throw  from  Piccadilly  Circus.  It  was  her 
father's  favourite  haunt  when  he  was  in  funds.  She 
glanced  round.  She  might  have  lunched  there  yesterday. 
Nothing  had  altered.  The  same  crimson  velvet  couches 
and  marble-topped  tables.  The  same  little  bar 
at  the  end,  presided  over  by  the  same  impassive, 
quietly-dressed  lady,  the  same  waiters.  She  recognised 
at  least  half  a  dozen.  The  men  and  women  lunching 
might  have  been  the  same.  The  type  of  patrons  was 
monotonous  in  its  characteristics.  The  only  innovation 
was  the  number  of  women  with  cigarettes  in  their  lips. 
Five  years  ago  such  luxuries  were  not  visible  until 
late  in  the  evening. 

She  sat  down  on  a  velvet  couch  and  took  up  the  menu. 
The  same  dishes.  She  was  almost  disappointed,  but 
why  should  she  have  been  ?  It  was  all  good  of  its 
kind.  She  made  her  selection  talking  to  the  waiter 
in  French,  at  which  his  face  lightened  and  he  at  once 
interested  himself  in  her  choice.  She  leisurely  went 
through  the  meal  and  fell  in  at  once  with  the  new  fashion 
of  a  cigarette  after  it.  She  had  not  taken  very  many 
whiffs  before  a  man  a  couple  of  tables  away  who 


32  A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

had,  unseen  by  her,  been  occasionally  glancing  at  her, 
rose,  strode  towards  her  table  and  sat  down  opposite. 

He  was  a  tall,  loosely-built  fellow,  with  an  aggressive 
swagger  of  the  shoulders,  yet  with  an  air  which  seemed 
to  suggest  that  he  was  not  unused  to  good  society. 
In  his  youth  he  had  probably  been  good-looking,  but 
all  that  had  survived  at  middle  age  was  a  certain  devil- 
may-care  expression  in  his  deepset  dark  eyes.  His 
square,  resolute  jaw  indicated  pugnacity  and  stubborn- 
ness ;  his  lips  were  puffy  and  the  lower  one  moist  and 
of  a  disagreeable  redness. 

He  learned  his  elbows  upon  the  table  and  pushed 
forward  his  head,  his  pugnacious  chin  more  prominent 
than  ever.  His  bold,  insolent  eyes  were  fixed  on  her 
face  a  few  seconds  before  he  spoke. 

"  Vi  Vaughan  or  her  ghost,  and,  by  Jove,  handsomer 
than  ever."  His  strident  voice  was  as  unpleasant  as 
his  face.  Violetta  sat  perfectly  unmoved  though 
inwardly  she  felt  as  though  she  could  have  struck  him. 

"I'm  sorry  I  can't  say  the  same  of  you,  Gentleman 
George — I  presume  you  still  answer  to  that  name." 

"  It's  good  enough  I  guess,"  he  retorted,  with  an 
ugly  glint  in  his  eyes.  "  Anyhow,  I  feel  honoured 
to  think  you  haven't  forgotten  it  or  myself  either." 

"  One  doesn't  easily  bury  disagreeable  experiences." 

"  The  evil  that  men  do,  etcetera,  etcetera.  What  ? 
Now  my  experience  of  you  was  of  the  most  agreeable 
kind,  though  I'm  bound  to  say  we  were  always  at 
loggerheads  and  we  never  once  had  the  pleasure  of 
kissing  away  our  differences." 

Her  answer  was  to  call  the  waiter. 

"  My  bill,  please,"  said  she,  and  coldly  ignored  the 
man  opposite. 

"  You're  not  ratty,  are  you,  Violetta  ?  I  didn't 
mean  anything." 

"  It's  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me  what  you  meant. 
You'd  better  understand  straight  away,  Mr.  Godfree, 
that  you  and  I  are  strangers.  I  shall  take  any  attempt 


33 

to  talk  to  me  or  to  claim  me  as  an  acquaintance  of  yours 
as  an  insult." 

He  laughed,  but  the  laugh  was  not  one  of  merriment. 
It  was  obviously  forced. 

"  You  can  regard  my  talk  in  any  way  you  choose, 
but  you  can't  get  out  of  the  plain  fact  that  you  are 
an  acquaintance  and  that  you  know  it.  I'm  not  likely 
to  forget  the  Beak  Street  Club's  charming  cantineer." 

Violetta  still  ignored  him.  She  was  holding  the 
little  slip  of  paper  handed  to  her  by  the  waiter  and  was 
studying  the  contents.  Then  she  opened  her  wrist  bag, 
drew  out  her  purse  and  paid  the  bill,  not  forgetting  a 
liberal  douceur.  The  waiter  smilingly  thanked  her 
in  the  politest  French  and  she  rose. 

"  You're  a  fool  to  fall  out  with  me,"  snarled  the  man 
in  a  grating  voice.  "  I  could  have  put  you  on  to  ever 
so  many  good  things.  Dead  certs  at  thundering  long 
odds." 

"  I  daresay.  I'll  do  without  your  tips  and  yourself 
as  well." 

Mr.  George  Godfrey's  eyes  followed  her  to  the  door. 
He  was  biting  his  nails  and  his  distended  lips  were 
uglier  than  ever. 

"  She's  changed.  If  ever  there  was  a  woman  of 
breeding  Violetta  looks  like  one  now." 

George  Godfree  was  no  mean  judge.  Though  he 
was  now  low  down  in  the  world  and  had  been  submerged 
some  years  there  was  a  time  when  he  mixed  with  the 
best.  He  had  aristocratic  connections  but  he  had  long 
since  tired  their  patience  and  exhausted  their  doles, 
and  he  was  looked  upon  as  an  irreclaimable  "  bad 
lot." 

He  had  always  been  "  bitten  "  to  use  his  own  word, 
by  Violetta.  To  him  she  was  as  a  dash  of  tarragon 
vinegar  is  to  a  salad.  She  gave  a  new  spice  to  life — 
certainly  to  his  life.  He  had  missed  her,  and  to  see 
her  again  so  unexpectedly  and  so  transformed  had 
revived  his  old  feelings.  Violetta's  studied  contempt 


34  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

had  angered  him  intensely,  but  its  chief  effect  was  to 
fan  the  fire  of  his  passion. 

"  Where  the  deuce  has  she  got  her  style  from  ?  " 
he  muttered.  "  She  hadn't  it  in  the  old  days  when 
she  acted  as  the  Hebe  of  that  queer  show  of  her  father's. 
Rum  devil,  old  Vaughan.  Not  a  bad  sort.  Always  right 
for  a  meal  on  the  nod  provided  you  hadn't  rubbed  him 
the  wrong  way,  and  then  he  was  as  hard  as  nails.  Guess 
Violetta  takes  after  him  there.  I  wonder  what  her 
game  here  is  and  what  she's  been  doing  ?  Anyhow,  she 
must  have  tumbled  on  her  feet.  There  wasn't  a  better 
dressed  woman  in  the  room,  much  less  one  who  knows 
how  to  wear  her  toggery  so  well." 

This  judgment  was  well  founded.  Violetta  had 
brought  with  her  a  good  stock  of  Paris  fashions  and  she 
had  acquired  the  air  of  distinction  and  individuality 
which  makes  the  French  woman  noticeable,  no  matter 
where  she  may  be.  Among  English,  Violetta  was 
always  taken  to  be  French,  but  the  French  themselves 
rarely  were  deceived.  Still,  if  not  the  rose,  she  was 
extremety  near  it. 

Godfree  swaggered  back  to  his  friends  and  accepted 
their  chaff  with  equanimity.  His  evasive  replies  con- 
veyed the  impression  that  he  knew  Violetta  well,  but 
he  would  not  give  her  away.  Among  the  group  of  raffish 
horsey  men  were  two  or  three  who  had  been  members 
of  Captain  Vaughan's  Club,  but  they  had  not  recognised 
her,  and  he  did  not  intend  that  they  should. 

"  Your  swell  chicken  didn't  seem  to  make  good  with 
you,"  remarked  one  man  in  a  Yankee  twang  that  one 
could  cut  with  a  knife. 

"  That  was  because  she  saw  I  came  from  your  table, 
old  bean." 

A  laugh  at  the  American's  expense  followed  Godfree 's 
retort,  and  the  talk  drifted  into  the  prospects  of  the 
flat  racing  season. 

Before  he  left  the  cafe  Godfree  took  the  opportunity 
to  question  the  waiter  who  had  served  Violetta  as  to 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  35 

what  he  knew  about  the  lady  but  he  could  get  no 
information.  Nevertheless,  he  made  up  his  mind  he 
would  "  ferret  "  her  out. 


CHAPTER  IV 
ON  THE  A.P.  COURSE 

IT  took  Violetta  quite  a  day  to  get  over  the  unlucky 
encounter  at  the  Cafe"  Nice.  "  Gentleman  George " 
was  about  the  last  man  she  wanted  to  see.  She  disliked 
the  man  in  the  old  days,  she  positively  hated  him  now. 
She  remembered  him  as  one  of  the  most  objectionable 
of  the  crowd  known  as  "  The  Boys."  His  manner  was 
presumptuous  and  he  had  a  tendency  to  patronise  her 
which  always  roused  her  wrath.  She  had  snubbed 
him  as  she  had  never  snubbed  the  rest  who  were  vulgar 
and  were  rude  because  they  were  ignorant.  But  George 
Godfree  knew  better  or  ought  to  have  known  better. 

She  was  intensely  angry  with  herself  that  she  had 
yielded  to  an  impulse  to  go  to  the  Caf6  Nice  just  because 
she  had  known  it.  She  might  just  as  well  have  selected 
another. 

The  episode  of  Gentleman  George  had  upset  her  more 
than  she  would  have  thought  possible.  She  wanted  to 
forget  her  father's  club,  its  habituees  and  all  that 
belonged  to  it,  yet  her  very  first  day  in  London  had 
brought  it  all  back  as  though  it  were  but  yesterday  ! 

But  had  Violetta  thought  for  a  moment  she  must  have 
realised  that  her  recollections  of  the  turf  would  be  revived 
if  she  were  to  carry  out  the  plans  which  were  floating 
in  her  mind.  Though  fortunes  had  been  lost  at  horse 
racing,  fortunes  had,  on  the  other  hand,  been  won. 
It  was  the  cool,  level-headed  bookmaker  who  was  most 
successful,  She  did  not  suppose  she  would  ever  earn 


36  A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

the  title  of  a  lady  "  leviathan  "  of  the  turf,  but  there 
was  something  very  fascinating  in  the  idea.  Anyhow, 
whatever  might  be  the  outcome  of  her  efforts,  capital 
must  be  the  starting  point.  She  had  some  £200.  It 
might  be  increased  if  she  were  lucky. 

That  was  the  crux  of  the  whole  matter — luck. 
Judgment,  experience,  could  do  much,  but  after  all 
the  winning  of  a  race  depended  upon  a  score  of  little 
things  impossible  to  be  foreseen.  "  Dead  certs " 
had  times  out  of  number  proved  illusory.  "  Dark 
horses  "  had  always  had  a  chance  in  the  gamble,  and 
anybody  who  went  in  for  betting  must  be  prepared 
to  take  a  risk.  Calculations  and  "  systems  "  were  not 
to  be  depended  upon.  Even  skilful  "  hedging  "  some- 
times broke  down. 

Violetta  had  seen  so  much  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
racing  that  she  had  come  to  regard  luck  as  the  most 
potent  factor.  And  this  opinion  had  been  backed 
up  by  her  experience  at  Monte  Carlo  and  by  her  ventures 
when  she  was  the  "  cantineer  "  of  her  father's  sporting 
club.  But  she  had  never  had  a  free  hand.  Her  father 
disliked  her  backing  horses  and  as  for  making  a  "  book  " 
he  would  not  hear  of  it. 

The  question  of  luck  closely  concerned  her.  She 
often  wondered  whether  there  was  a  mystic  influence 
behind  which  determined  its  goodness  or  badness  as 
applied  to  the  person  affected.  Her  strange  power 
at  Monte  Carlo  puzzled  her  as  much  as  it  impressed 
those  who  witnessed  it.  If  she  could  be  so  successful 
as  mascotte  at  rouge  et  noir,  why  not  at  racing  ?  She 
did  not  think  it  would  work  out  the  same  way,  for  the 
reason  she  had  given  the  man  who  had  halved  his 
winnings  with  her,  but  as  she  had  never  tested  the  thing 
who  could  say  ? 

"  It's  all  nonsense,"  she  at  last  exclaimed  impatiently. 
"  I'd  better  come  down  from  the  clouds  and  fix  myself 
on  something  practical." 

Violetta  had   arrived  in   London  on   the   Saturday 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  37 

after  Good  Friday,  too  late  to  think  about  the  Kempton 
Park  Spring  meeting,  which  on  Easter  Monday  opened 
the  racing  season.  The  next  fixture  was  Alexandra 
Park,  four  days  later.  She  was  rather  inclined  towards 
the  minor  races.  There  was  less  chance  of  horses  being 
scratched. 

As  she  sauntered  from  Piccadilly  Circus  to  Arundel 
Street,  where  her  hotel  was,  she  purchased  all  the  sporting 
papers  she  was  able  to  procure,  and  even  invested  a 
few  shillings  in  the  "  special  "  tips  sent  out  by  the 
"  prophets."  It  wasn't  that  she  believed  in  the  prophets 
but  she  liked  to  compare  the  various  selections.  Then 
she  retired  to  her  bedroom  and  studied  the  list  of  entries 
and  the  predictions. 

"  I  hardly  know  one  of  the  horses,"  she  muttered. 
"  I  haven't  followed  English  racing  since  poor  dad's 
death.  I  guess  I'll  have  to  go  to  school  again." 

But  the  names  of  some  of  the  jockeys  and  of  the 
owners  were  familiar,  and  so  also  were  the  pedigrees 
of  a  few  of  the  horses,  and  she  turned  to  the  latest 
bettings.  Prince  Edward,  the  favourite,  was  evidently 
looked  upon  as  a  safe  winner,  the  odds,  3  to  2,  were 
so  short.  The  majority  of  the  prophets  gave  "  Prince 
Edward,"  and  she  found  that  he  had  advanced  rapidly 
in  favour,  as  in  a  trial  with  a  stable  companion,  supposed 
to  be  a  faster  animal,  he  had  beaten  the  latter  by  a 
couple  of  lengths.  But  at  3  to  2,  he  was  not  worth 
backing. 

Nor  was  the  second  favourite  "  Marcus  "  a  much  better 
spec.  Of  the  outsiders  she  rather  fancied  "  Daughter 
of  the  Mist  "  chiefly  because  the  filly  was  one  of  the 
progeny  of  the  famous  "  Stockwell."  But  only  one 
of  the  papers  mentioned  her.  She  was  quite  ignored 
by  all  the  professional  tipsters.  Another  horse,  "  Bel- 
phegor,"  was  spoken  well  of  if  he  could  be  depended 
upon,  but  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  most  uncertain 
in  his  temper.  The  odds  on  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist  " 
were  quoted  at  30  to  I,  and  "  Belphegor  "  at  10  to  I. 


38  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

Violetta  determined  not  to  make  a  leap  in  the  dark 
but  to  wait  until  she  was  on  the  course  and  had  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  animals,  and  she  consumed 
her  soul  in  patience  until  the  day  of  the  fixture. 

A  thunderstorm — an  unusual  thing  at  Easter  time — 
broke  over  London  the  morning  of  the  race  day.  This, 
with  the  clayey,  heavy  soil  of  the  A. P.  course  would 
make  the  running  a  little  difficult.  It  was  on  the  cards 
that  a  slow  horse,  if  a  stayer,  would  have  a  good  chance. 

"  I  was  right  in  waiting  till  I  saw  the  horses,"  thought 
Violetta. 

She  mingled  with  the  crowd  that  hurried  from  the 
train,  and  plodded  through  the  yellow  mud  churned 
up  to  the  consistency  of  thick  cream  to  the  entrance. 
Outside  was  the  usual  gathering  of  peripatetic  vendors 
of  refreshments.  Small  "  bookies,"  itinerant  tipsters, 
touts  and  what  not  gathered  round  the  stewed  eel  stalls 
and  swallowed  the  steaming  dainty  with  great  gusto. 
The  fondness  of  horsey  men  for  stewed  eels  has  yet  to 
be  explained.  There  is  always  a  big  demand  outside 
Aldridges  on  the  occasion  of  a  horse  sale,  and  the  con- 
sumers are  just  as  avid  for  the  delicacy  as  they  are  on  a 
race  day.  Maybe  it  gives  a  greater  relish  to  the  beer 
which  follows — when  it  can  be  got.  Jellied  eels,  Violetta 
noticed,  on  this  particular  morning  were  slow  of  sale, 
and  cold  fried  fish  an  absolute  drug  in  the  market. 
Possibly  the  keen  air  of  the  Northern  Heights  following 
the  storm  made  the  hot  fish  stew  more  comforting. 

Violetta  paid  the  entrance  money  and  passed  through 
the  turnstile.  The  mud  of  the  road  leading  to  the  course 
was  worse  than  that  of  the  public  thoroughfares.  It 
was  glutinous  in  some  parts,  slushy  in  others,  but  no 
one  cared.  The  string  of  motor  cars  was  never  ending, 
and  did  their  best  to  distribute  the  yellow  sticky  mix- 
ture over  the  foot  passengers.  In  these  days  of  short 
skirts  the  women  were  much  better  off  than  in  Victorian 
times,  and  Violetta  trudged  along  not  much  the  worse 
save  for  the  mud  on  her  boots  and  gaiters. 


39 

A  man  came  up  to  her  selling  racing  cards.  She 
bought  one  and  glanced  at  the  vendor.  He  was  a  red- 
nosed,  watery-eyed,  loose  lipped  individual  of  middle 
age,  shabbily  dressed  but  with  something  about  his 
manner  which  did  not  suggest  the  ordinary  turf 
hanger-on. 

"  Isn't  your  name  Alf  Bartlett  ?  It  was  "  Doctor  " 
some  four  years  ago,  if  I  remember  rightly,"  said 
Violetta. 

"  Alf  Bartlett  it  is.  Not  much  of  the  '  Doctor ' 
about  me  left,  I  reckon.  I  seem  to  know  you."  He 
stared  at  her  fixedly.  "  By  the  lord  !  Miss  Vaughan  !  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  And  you're  not  too  proud  to  speak 
to  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  be  ?  " 

"  Because  I'm  right  down  on  the  bedrock.  You  can 
see  it  for  yourself." 

Violetta  remembered  Alf  Bartlett  as  one  of  the  smart- 
est of  the  club  members.  He  had  been  educated  for  a 
doctor,  had  walked  the  hospitals,  gained  his  diploma, 
but  had  never  practised.  Coming  into  some  money 
had  been  his  ruin.  He  had  taken  to  betting,  and  when 
he  had  run  through  his  little  fortune,  he  took  to  drinking. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  she.  "  Why  don't  you  try  to  pull 
yourself  round  ?  You're  not  old,  you  know." 

"  Too  old  to  alter.  May  I  hope  that  things  have  gone 
well  with  you  ?  You  look  as  if  they  had." 

"  As  well  as  I  deserve,  I  suppose.  Anyhow,  well 
enough  for  this — if  it's  any  good  to  you." 

She  had  drawn  out  a  ten  shilling  note  and  pressed 
it  upon  him. 

"  I  don't  like  taking  it,"  said  he  brokenly.  "  I  guess 
it'll  go  where  the  rest  went." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  be  such  a  fool.  Better  put  it  on 
a  horse  than  down  your  throat." 

The  man's  dull  bleary  eyes  flashed  momentarily. 

"  You're  right,  Miss  Vaughan.  You  used  to  be  a 
witch  at  spotting  a  winner.  Do  you  know  anything  ?  " 


40  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   f>ADDOCK 

"  No.  I'm  an  outsider  just  for  the  moment.  I  rather 
fancy  '  Daughter  of  the  Mist '  for  the  Welter  Handicap, 
but  I've  nothing  on." 

"  None  of  the  tipsters  give  her  as  any  class." 

"  Oh,  it's  only  a  sporting  chance.  At  30  to  i  there's 
not  much  one  need  risk.  The  running  '11  be  heavy  after 
the  rain.  That's  against  her." 

"  So  it  is,  but  the  course  is  short,  only  five  furlongs. 
If  she  gets  in  front  at  the  start  and  can  hold  on  to  the 
last,  she  may  cover  the  short  course  before  the  heavy 
horses  catch  her.  I  wouldn't  say  what  might  happen 
if  she  had  to  go  the  long  course — a  mile  and  one  hundred 
and  fifty  yards.  What  makes  you  fancy  her  ?  " 

"  She's  one  of  the  '  Stockwell '  blood,  that's  all." 

"  H'm.  I  thought  perhaps  it  might  have  been  be- 
cause she's  in  a  way  your  namesake." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  used  to  call  you  the  '  Cantineer '  in  the 
old  Beak  Street  Club  days,  didn't  we  ?  It  so  happens 
that  '  Daughter  of  the  Mist '  was  first  known  as  '  Can- 
tineer.' She  won  a  selling  race  and  the  man  who  bought 
her  changed  her  name." 

"  Who  owned  her  originally  ?  " 

"  Sir  John  Norman,  but  she  was  run  by  a  nominee, 
George  Godfree.  Maybe  you  remember  him  at  the 
club." 

What  a  small  world  it  suddenly  seemed  !  Fate  was 
apparently  destined  to  run  her  up  against  Godfree. 
She  wondered  if  this  proximity  would  end  here.  But 
what  about  Sir  John  Norman  ?  Was  he  also  destined 
to  play  a  part  in  her  life  ? 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "I  recollect  Mr.  Godfree  very  well. 
What  had  he  to  do  with  Sir  John  Norman  ?  " 

"  They  were  close  pals  for  a  time.  Sir  John  didn't 
get  any  good  out  of  Gentleman  George,  you  may  bet 
your  life.  He  ought  to  have  bought  in  Cantineer, 
but  I'm  told  Godfree  talked  him  out  of  it.  Had  his 
own  game  to  play,  I'll  swear." 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCtf  41 

"  Who  bought  '  Cantineer  '  ?  " 

"  A  chap  who  knows  a  good  horse  when  he  sees  one 
— Dan  Westoby.  Of  course,  I  don't  know  for  certain, 
but  it's  my  impression  Westoby  made  it  all  right  with 
Godfree  for  persuding  Sir  John  to  sell  the  filly." 

"  How  is  it  she's  at  such  long  odds  to-day  ?  " 

"  The  deuce  only  knows.  It's  got  whispered  about 
there's  something  wrong  about  her.  All  I  can  say  is  I 
managed  to  get  sight  of  her  at  a  trial  about  three  weeks 
ago  and  she  seemed  to  me  as  right  as  rain.  It's  a  funny 
thing  as  she  should  have  gone  back  in  the  betting  ever 
since." 

Violetta  turned  the  matter  over  in  her  mind.  Alt" 
Bartlett  had  no  object  in  deceiving  her  and  she  knew 
that  he  had  the  whole  gamut  of  racing  dodges  at  his 
finger  ends. 

"  Look  here,  doctor.  I'll  have  a.  look  at  '  Daughter 
of  the  Mist,'  but  in  any  case  I  shall  put  a  bit  on  her.  I 
believe  I'm  a  little  superstitious.  There  might  be  some- 
thing lucky  in  her  name  '  Cantineer.'  ' 

"  Then  hanged  if  I  don't  follow  your  lead,  Miss 
Vaughan.  It's  your  ten  bob,  you  know.  You  were 
always  lucky  for  other  people.  I'd  better  get  on  before 
I  alter  my  mind.  If  I  lose  the  lot  I  shan't  be  worse  off 
than  I  was.  And  if  I  win — well,  with  fifteen  quid  in 
my  pocket  I  shall  feel  like  a  millionaire.  Same  time,  if 
I  was  to  follow  my  own  judgment,  I'd  have  a  bit  on 
'  Belphegor  '  in  spite  of  his  beast  of  a  temper.  Anyhow, 
thank  you  heartily." 

"  I  hope  it'll  come  off,  and  if  it  does,  don't  make  a  fool 
of  yourself." 

The  man  put  out  a  somewhat  grimy  hand,  and  Vio- 
letta, blinding  herself  to  its  dirt,  grasped  it.  Then  the 
"  Doctor  "  rushed  off  to  invest  his  ten  shillings  and 
Violetta  continued  on  her  way  towards  the  enclosure. 

The  crowd  outside  the  ropes  was  not  particularly 
attractive.  Not  many  had  come  for  the  love  of  sport 
or  of  horses.  All  that  was  in  their  minds  was  money 


42  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

making.  A  good  many  were  of  the  same  type,  with 
narrow,  pallid  faces,  long  noses,  eyes  devoid  of  expression 
save  for  a  certain  restless  expectancy,  wide  thin-lipped 
mouths.  In  an  odd  way  they  were  strangely  suggestive 
of  horses.  Some  were  itinerant  bookies,  and  in  these 
cases  their  eyes  were  never  for  a  moment  still.  They 
came,  most  of  them  armed  with  portable  stands  on  which 
they  placed  placards  with  the  names  of  the  horses  and 
their  respective  odds.  These  men  bawled  one  against 
the  other,  but  beyond  this  there  did  not  seem  any  out- 
ward show  of  rivalry. 

The  "  prophets  "  were  of  a  different  class.  They  set 
out  to  be  absolutely  certain  of  everything  they  asserted, 
but  with  a  cunning  dash  of  cautiousness  thrown  in  which 
made  their  assurance  more  impressive.  The  main  point, 
however,  was  to  get  together  as  large  a  crowd  as  possible 
to  listen  to  their  patter.  One  of  these  gentlemen  started 
by  spreading  his  overcoat  on  the  grass.  Then  he  pro- 
duced with  a  great  flourish  a  bundle  of  what  purported 
to  be  five  pound  notes.  After  this  came  a  score  of 
golden  sovereigns — at  least  they  looked  like  sovereigns 
— and  the  money  was  solemnly  counted  and  deposited 
on  the  overcoat. 

It  wasn't  quite  clear  what  this  performance  had  to 
do  with  prophecy,  but  somehow  it  conveyed  the  notion 
that  the  prophet  was  no  hard-up  catchpenny  adven- 
turer, but  was  a  man  of  substance,  able  to  pay  for 
"  correct  "  information  and  therefore  likely  to  be  "  in 
the  know."  The  sight  of  the  money  and  especially  the 
jingle  of  the  sovereigns,  whetted  curiosity,  and  never 
failed  to  make  the  hurrying  public  pause  and  listen. 

The  aim  of  the  prophet  was  to  appear  perfectly  fair 
and  impartial.  He  hadn't  a  word  to  say  against  the 
favourite.  "  Prince  Edward  "  was  a  good  horse,  there 
wasn't  a  doubt  about  it,  but — and  here  the  prophet 
became  very  serious  in  tone  and  manner — "  you've  got 
to  be  vurry,  vurry  careful.  I  don't  say  '  Prince  Ed- 
ward '  won't  win,  but  there  is  a  horse  that'll  give  him 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  43 

some  trouble.  /  know  what  the  stable  thinks  about 
him  and  /  know  what  he's  done  in  his  trial  spins.  You 
do  as  you  like,  but  if  you  want  a  pretty  safe  spec,  at 

long  odds,  you'll "  At  this  point  the  patter  became 

rather  hazy,  the  only  definite  declaration  being  that  you 
had  but  to  put  down  half-a-crown  and  you  would  get  a 
slip  giving  you  the  name  of  this  dark  and  mysterious 
prodigy. 

Violetta  was  highly  interested  in  the  man's  gab.  She 
4cnew  quite  well  that  anyone  with  sufficient  assurance 
could  pose  as  a  "  prophet."  Stable  "  information " 
was  as  likely  to  be  wrong  as  right.  Whatever  a  horse 
might  accomplish  beforehand,  no  one  could  say  what  he 
would  do  on  the  day  of  the  race.  To  her  it  was  amazing 
how  many  of  the  crowd  threw  down  their  half-crowns 
and  walked  away  hugging  the  little  piece  of  paper  to 
plank  their  money  on  the  "  prophet's  "  tip. 

She  did  not  waste  time  listening  to  any  of  the  other 
tipsters,  and  hurried  towards  the  enclosure,  paid  the 
admission  money,  and  mingled  among  the  groups  of 
"  bookies  "  and  backers.  She  wondered  if  among  the 
former  there  were  any  of  the  old  "  crowd." 

She  felt  a  slight  tap  on  her  shoulder.  She  turned.  A 
stout  farmer-like  man,  with  a  smile  broadening  his 
cheery  face  was  beaming  at  her. 


CHAPTER    V 
"  DAUGHTER   OF   THE   MIST  " 

"  BLEST  if  the  sight  o'  you,  lass,  bean't  good  for  sore 
eyes.  Leastways  if  I  haven't  made  a  mistake,  an'  I 
don't  think  I  have — it  bean't  often  as  I  forget  a  face, 
'specially  if  it  be  a  woman's,  though,  to  be  sure,  you 
gals  have  a  way  o'  growing  up  out  o'  knowledge.  I'll 


44  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

bet  any  money  as  your  name's  Vaughan — little  Violetta 
Vaughan." 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  I  recollect  you.  Mr.  Burrup, 
isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Aye,  Ben  Burrup's  my  name  an'  Yorkshire  my 
dwelling  place.  Why,  it  must  be  a  matter  o'  four  years 
since  you  was  ladling  out  whiskies  an'  sodas.  I  see  the 
death  of  your  poor  dad  in  the  Sporting  Gazette,  an'  it  give 
me  a  bit  of  a  shock.  We  were  great  pals,  him  an'  me." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  Poor  father.  I  missed  him 
awfully." 

"  I'll  bet  you  did.  I  hope  as  he  left  you  a  bit  o' 
brass." 

"  Only  his  debts.  The  horse  he  was  riding  was  so 
knocked  about  the  poor  thing  had  to  be  shot." 

"  That  was  a  bit  o'  bad  luck.  If  it's  not  a  rude  ques- 
tion, what  are  you  doing  here  ?  Not  by  yourself,  eh  ?  " 

Violetta  understood  the  roguish  look  in  Mr.  Burrup's 
twinkling  eyes.  She  laughed. 

"  Yes,  I  am.     Why  not  ?  " 

"  Then  all  I've  got  to  say  is  I  don't  understand  what 
the  Lunnon  chaps  be  about.  At  Leeds  you'd  have  a 
whole  string  of  'em  after  you." 

"  Then  I'm  glad  I'm  not  at  Leeds.  I  don't  want 
them,  thank  you.  But,  Mr.  Burrup,  tell  me — are  you 
still  in  the  pencilling  line  ?  " 

"  What  on  earth  should  I  be  doing  at  the  A.P.  spring 
meeting  if  I  wasn't  ?  " 

"  I'm  glad,  because  I've  got  a  fancy  I'd  like  to  back." 

The  bookmaker's  smile  fled. 

"  Don't  you,  Miss  Violetta.  I  wouldn't-like  to  know 
I  was  walking  away  with  your  money  in  my  pocket." 

"  What  nonsense.  How  do  you  know  you  will  ? 
Anyhow,  if  I  lose  it'll  only  be  the  fortune  of  the  race- 
course. What's  '  Daughter  of  the  Mist '  ?  " 

"  Went  a  bit  back  this  morning — 35  to  I." 

"  I  wonder  why.  I'm  told  the  filly  ran  well  last 
year." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  45 

Mr.  Burrup  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  It  bean't  no  business  o'  mine  to  talk  about  the 
'osses.  I  hears  all  and  says  nothing.  It's  only  the  odds 
that  int'rest  me.  But  you're  an  old  friend — well,  she's 
run  by  one  o'  the  smartest  o'  the  smart,  Dan  Westoby, 
and  he's  got  a  tricky  crowd  in  his  pay.  But  mum's  the 
word.  D'ye  twig  ?  " 

Violetta  nodded. 

"  Same  time,  mind  ye,  the  going'll  be  prettj'  heavy 
over  this  sticky,  slippery  turf.  That's  all  agen  her." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  see  her,  and  if  she  shapes  well  I'll 
risk  £50  at  35  to  i.  Will  you  take  me  ?  " 

"  That'll  mean  £1,750  if  I  lose.  Pretty  heavy,  my 
dear,"  and  Ben  Burrup  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"  Well,  will  any  of  your  friends  do  it  ?  " 

"  I'll  take  you  up  to  £10.  Maybe  Bill  Jackson's 
good  for  another  tenner.  Shall  I  book  your  ten  ?  " 

"  Wait  till  I've  seen  the  filly.  I  suppose  the  horses 
will  come  out  before  the  race.  You  know  the  ropes 
pretty  well,  I  guess.  Take  me  to  a  seat  in  the  Grand 
Stand  where  there's  a  fair  view  of  the  course." 

"  Right  y'are.     We  shall  see  some  of  my  pals  there." 

They  walked  to  the  entrance  of  the  Grand  Stand, 
Burrup  nodding  to  and  cracking  jokes  with  his  many 
acquaintances  as  he  went.  He  secured  Violetta  an 
excellent  seat.  She  surveyed  the  course  through  her 
race  glasses  and  noted  its  bend  about  half-way  round, 
and  the  long  straight  home.  It  seemed  to  her  that  all 
things  being  equal  it  was  a  case  of  skilful  jockeying. 

"  I'll  sound  some  of  the  boys  about  '  Daughter  of  the 
Mist,'  "  said  Burrup.  "  Meanwhile  you  make  yourself 
happy.  The  horses'll  be  out  in  two  ticks." 

All  traces  of  the  morning's  storm  were  gone.  The 
sky  was  of  an  intense  blue,  with  here  and  there  a  scudding 
fleecy  cloud.  The  April  sun  was  shining  brilliantly 
as  only  an  English  April  sun  can.  The  air  was  exhilar- 
ating and  under  its  influence,  combined  with  the  ex- 
citement of  the  coming  contest  and  the  strong  personal 


46  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

interest  she  felt  in  it,  brought  a  clear  rich  crimson  to 
her  cheeks. 

Violetta  was  about  to  put  the  glasses  down  when  she 
chanced  to  swerve,  and  the  movement  brought  the 
other  end  of  the  Grand  Stand  into  view.  She  saw  a 
man  with  his  glasses  turned  in  her  direction.  She  knew 
him  at  once.  It  was  George  Godfree.  The  woman  by 
his  side,  tall,  fair  and  somewhat  overdressed,  was  talking 
to  him  animatedly.  He  did  not  appear  to  be  listening 
to  her. 

Violetta  could  not  say  why  the  sight  of  Godfree  was 
disquieting,  as  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
that  he  should  be  there,  but  it  was  so.  However,  she 
dismissed  the  man  from  her  mind,  as  at  that  moment 
the  horses  entered  the  course  for  a  preliminary  canter 
and  to  show  themselves.  Violetta  at  once  picked  out 
"  Daughter  of  the  Mist."  Her  jockey's  colours  were 
blue  and  white.  She  was  a  beautiful  creature — a  dark 
chestnut — perfectly  sjmimetrical,  yet  strong  and  wiry. 
She  moved  as  if  on  wires  working  harmoniously.  There 
wasn't  a  sign  of  anything  wrong  with  her. 

Of  the  other  horses,  "  Prince  Edward,"  the  favourite, 
won  Violetta's  approval,  but  he  was  a  trifle  too  slightly 
built,  so  she  thought,  to  be  a  stayer.  Another  horse 
took  her  fancy.  He  was  a  bright  chestnut  with  a  white 
streak  down  his  nose.  Hardly  handsome,  he  was  big, 
bony,  and  enormously  strong.  The  question  was  did 
his  speed  equal  his  strength  ?  His  jockey's  colours  were 
scarlet  and  gold.  She  looked  at  the  card — scarlet  and 
gold  belonged  to  "  Belphegor,"  the  horse  of  uncertain 
temper,  mentioned  by  Alf  Bartlett. 

The  horses  came  out  in  a  cluster  and  then  separated 
with  the  exception  of  three.  One  of  the  latter  was 
"  Belphegor."  The  three  kept  close  together  for  about 
twenty  yards  and  then  something  happened  to  annoy 
the  bright  chestnut  and  his  haunches  suddenly  went 
up,  and  he  lashed  out  one  of  his  hind  legs  in  a  vicious 
kick  which  luckily  touched  nothing.  The  jockey  prob- 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  47 

ably  was  prepared  for  the  horse's  attempt  at  buck  jump- 
ing, as  he  stuck  to  his  saddle  gallantly.  He  brought 
the  whip  down  sharply  on  the  animal's  hindquarters, 
and  presently  "  Belphegor  "  condescended  to  use  his 
four  legs  normally.  The  knowing  ones  among  the 
spectators  shook  their  heads.  "  Belphegor  "  was  evi- 
dently inclined  to  be  in  one  of  his  tantrums. 

"  Not  much  chance  of  your  getting  your  money  on 
'  Daughter  of  the  Mist/  "  Violetta  heard  Burrup  whisper 
behind  her.  "  The  chaps  fight  shy  of  her.  The  best 
I  could  do  was  to  divide  your  ten  pounds  between  me 
and  Bill  Jackson." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Burrup,  how  horrid.  She's  lovely,  don't 
you  think  so  ?  " 

"  It's  not  the  filly,  it's  the  crowd  that's  running  her 
we're  afraid  of.  We  know  something  of  Dan  Westoby, 
George  Godfree,  and  the  rest,  and  we  don't  intend  to  be 
rooked.  I  don't  suppose  half  a  dozen  of  the  public  have 
backed  her.  You  see,  after  winning  the  selling  race  and 
coming  into  Westoby 's  hands,  she  did  nothing  but  lose 
everything  she  was  entered  for.  It  was  thought  that 
Westoby  was  horribly  unlucky,  because  in  each  case 
the  filly  nearly  pulled  it  off." 

'  Who  was  the  jockey  ?  " 

'  Ted  Loram." 

'  And  is  he  up  to-day  ?  " 

'  Of  course  he  is." 

'  Oh." 

'  Eh  ?  What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  " 

'  Nothing  much,  excepting  that  I  believe  he's  a 
bad  egg." 

"  That  wouldn't  surprise  me.  It  be  mighty  queer 
that  the  backing  should  only  be  among  the  Westoby 
gang.  If  Loram  doesn't  win  they  don't  stand  to  lose 
much.  But  I  fancy  they're  fly  and  are  cocksure  they've 
got  a  good  thing.  Jackson  tells  me  that  ten  minutes 
ago  Godfree  wanted  to  put  a  bit  more  on,  but  Bill  wasn't 
taking  any  and  George  went  off  with  a  face  as  black  as 


48  A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

my  hat.     Hallo — there's  the  bell.     'Xcuse  me,  miss." 

And  the  bookmaker  hurried  off  leaving  Violetta  with 
much  to  ponder  over.  Amid  her  disturbing  thoughts 
one  thing  was  tolerably  clear.  The  Westoby  gang,  as 
Burrup  called  it,  had  clearly  engineered  the  business, 
with  the  assistance  of  Loram,  and  to-day  the  coup  was 
to  be  brought  off.  She  did  not  feel  at  all  comfortable 
at  benefiting  by  a  fraud. 

"  All  the  same  I  don't  see  that  I'm  to  blame  if  '  Daugh- 
ter of  the  Mist'  shows  her  true  form  and  beats  the  rest," 
she  thought. 

The  annoying  part  was  that  in  a  way  she  was  asso- 
ciated with  George  Godfree,  and  she  hoped  devoutly 
it  would  not  get  to  his  ears  that  she  had  backed  the  filly. 
But  she  had  not  time  to  consider  further  the  position. 
The  horses  were  being  marshalled  for  the  start  and  were 
coming  into  line. 

Considerable  restiveness  was  caused  by  Belphegor's 
bad  conduct.  Violetta  put  down  the  big  chestnut  as  an 
irreclaimable  beast.  He  was  clearly  bent  on  mischief, 
and  it  was  only  after  several  false  starts  that  the  official 
got  them  away  in  something  like  equality. 

At  first  it  was  a  scramble.  "  Belphegor  "  was  showing 
temper,  and  the  jockeys  round  about  him  were  doing 
their  best  to  keep  away  from  the  brute.  But  the 
creature  took  it  into  his  head  to  "  hug"  his  horses,  and 
his  rider  could  not  get  him  clear  despite  whip  and  spur. 
It  was  unlucky  that  the  favourite  was  his  nearest  neigh- 
bour, for  his  jockey  found  himself  considerably  ham- 
pered. About  a  quarter  of  the  course  had  been  covered 
and  then  one  of  the  horses  found  an  opening,  shook  itself 
free,  and  in  a  flash  was  a  length  in  front.  The  jockey's 
colours  were  blue  and  white. 

People  stared  and  looked  at  their  cards.  Blue  and 
white  stood  opposite  No.  6,  and  the  name  of  the  horse 
was  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist."  No  one  looked  pleased. 
Quite  the  reverse.  She  was  run  in  the  name  of  Mr.  Jones, 
about  whom  nothing  was  known.  As  for  the  filly  her- 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  49 

self,  had  anybody  troubled  to  look  up  her  record  for 
the  past  year  it  would  not  have  been  found  sufficiently 
encouraging  to  warrant  one  venturing  a  shilling  upon  her 
chances.  No  wonder  she  had  been  left  severely  alone. 

Violetta's  colour  fled  and  returned.  She  was  breath- 
less with  excess  of  emotion.  The  hand  holding  the 
race-glass  to  her  eves  quivered.  The  excitement  of  the 
gaming  table  was  nothing  to  this.  Rouge  et  noir  and 
roulette  were  lifeless  and  sordid.  One's  thoughts  in 
watching  the  spinning  ball  were  sordid.  There  was  no 
struggle  of  flesh  and  blood.  To  watch  a  number  of 
high-bred  sensitive  animals  straining  every  nerve  and 
muscle  in  rivalry  was  a  different  matter  altogether. 

The  filly  was  doing  splendidly.  She  was  being  kept 
close  to  the  rails  and  was  quite  half  a  dozen  lengths  ahead. 
Unless  she  was  overhauled  she  would  be  able  to  sweep 
round  the  bend — one  of  the  features  of  the  A. P.  course 
— without  the  slightest  chance  of  losing  her  advantageous 
position. 

"  Oh  you  dear — oh  you  darling  !  "  murmured  Violetta. 

The  words  had  hardly  escaped  her  lips  than  some- 
thing totally  unexpected  happened,  and  a  roar  burst 
from  the  crowd.  A  jockey  in  scarlet  and  gold  was 
sprawling  on  the  ground.  Belphegor  had  thrown  his 
rider.  The  latter  was  apparently  unhurt.  In  less  than 
a  second  he  was  on  his  feet,  and  had  dashed  to  his  horse 
which  with  strange  perversity  was  standing  stock  still, 
seemingly  surveying  his  work. 

The  jockey  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  "  Belphegor  " 
seized  with  a  new  mood,  no  sooner  felt  the  weight  on 
his  back,  than  he  plunged  forward  and  raced  after  the 
other  horses  at  an  amazing  speed.  The  jockey  had 
the  sense  to  leave  him  alone  and  probably  this  was  what 
the  horse  wanted.  Shouts  were  heard  all  over  the 
course  as  stride  by  stride  he  gained  upon  the  striving 
horses  in  front,  and  about  halfway  round  the  bend  he 
was  in  front  and  close  to  the  rails.  But  "  Daughter  of 
the  Mist  "  was  still  half  q.  dozen  lengths  ahead,  and 


50  A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

apparently  the  heavy  ground  had  not  yet  affected  her. 
But  when  the  two  emerged  into  the  straight  run  home, 
it  was  seen  that  "  Belphegor  "  was  only  behind  by  a 
length,  and  was  moving  with  tremendous  power  and 
freshness.  The  odds  on  him  had  dropped  to  6  to  I,  and 
many  who  had  backed  the  favourite  tried  to  "  hedge," 
for  "  Prince  Edward  "  was  hopelessly  beaten.  In  the 
short  space  of  a  quarter  of  a  minute  everything  changed 
for  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist  "  was  visibly  tiring,  and 
"  Belphegor  "  was  getting  nearer  at  every  stride  and 
was  as  strong  as  ever. 

Violetta  could  hardly  control  her  agitation.  Money 
had  little  to  do  with  it,  for  if  "  Belphegor  "  won,  her 
actual  loss  out  of  pocket  would  be  small,  but  the  fever 
of  speculation  had  seized  her,  and  to  be  defeated  would 
be  galling.  As  the  horses  neared  the  post,  "  Belphegor," 
with  his  muzzle  on  a  level  with  the  filly's  haunches, 
Violetta  closed  her  eyes.  There  was  not  more  than 
twenty  yards  to  run,  and  it  was  purely  a  question 
whether  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist  "  would  last.  Violetta 
could  not  look.  All  the  blood  in  her  body  seemed  to  be 
rushing  to  her  brain. 

Then  a  tremendous  cheering  was  heard  and  a  man 
near  her  ejaculated  "  Great  Scott,-  did  you  ever  see 
anything  like  the  way  that  horse  '  Belphegor '  forged 
ahead  ?  Another  half  a  dozen  yards  and  he'd  have 
romped  in." 

So  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist  "  had  won,  but  Violetta 
could  not  trust  herself  to  believe  it  until  she  saw 
"  No.  6  "  hoisted  on  the  board.  Her  friend  Burrup 
presently  came  to  her  looking  a  little  rueful,  but  he 
warmly  congratulated  her  nevertheless. 

"  Are  you  going  to  follow  your  luck  with  the  next 
race,  Miss  Violetta  ?  I'm  a  bit  afraid  of  you,  you  know  ; 
still,  if  you've  another  good  thing  up  your  sleeve,  I'll 
see  what  I  can  do." 

"  No.  I've  finished  for  to-day.  It  was  all  luck, 
you  see,  and  a  very  near  thing.  Who  would  have  thought 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  51 

it  was  possible  ? — I  mean  about  that  cantankerous 
'  Belphegor.'  I'd  like  to  see  him  run  again.  He  was 
badly  ridden.  His  jockey  used  the  whip  and  lost  his 
temper  in  addition." 

"  You're  right  there,  Miss  Vanghan.  By  Jove,  if 
his  mount  had  been  someone  who  understood  him,  he'd 
have  chawed  up  the  rest  of  the  field.  You  should  ha' 
seen  Westoby's  face  when  his  filly  was  losing  ground 
every  yard.  It  was  a  sight,  I  can  tell  you.  As  long  as 
a  fiddle.  As  for  Godfree,  danged  if  he  didn't  go  green. 
They  must  ha'  netted  a  nice  little  pile.  They  won't 
do  the  same  trick  again,  I'll  bet." 

Then  he  and  Violetta  had  a  little  talk  about  the 
settlement  of  her  bets  with  him  and  Jackson,  and  Vio- 
letta went  back  to  town  alternately  exalted  and  depressed. 
She  was  worried  about  her  strange  piece  of  luck.  Was 
it  really  to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  she  had  Norman 
in  her  mind  when  she  backed  the  horse  which  had  once 
been  Norman's  ?  She  had  rarely  won  when  she  only 
thought  of  herself.  But  what  was  the  use  of  trying  to 
penetrate  the  unknown  ? 


CHAPTER    VI 
"  I'VE  No  HORSES  TO  SHOW  You  Now  " 

Two  days  later  Violetta  was  at  Paddington  on  her  way 
to  Maidenhead.  She  had  written  to  Ella  to  say  she  was 
coming  and  had  a  reply  sufficiently  cordial  to  warrant 
her  expecting  a  warm  welcome. 

However,  she  was  now  on  her  way  to  a  different  world 
— a  world,  which  if  it  were  placid  and  monotonous,  was 
at  least  refined,  and  her  mercurial  temperament  revived 
at  the  thought.  And  she  was  in  addition  really  anxious 
to  hear  the  story  of  Sir  John  Norman's  misfortunes. 

She  easily  found  her  way  to  The  Willows.     It  was 


52  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

a  double-fronted  house  with  a  verandah  and  a  wisteria 
half  covering  the  windows  and  reaching  to  the  roof.  It 
had  a  spacious  garden  in  front  with  stabling  at  the  side. 
Very  cosy  and  comfortable,  but  suburban — quite  a 
contrast  to  Normanhurst,  the  stately  white  stone  mansion 
built  in  the  florid  Italian  style  with  its  pilasters,  its 
Parthenon-like  front,  its  long  balconied  windows,  its 
imposing  projecting  porch,  its  terrace  and  spacious 
lawn  and  shrubberies. 

A  neatly  dressed  maid  opened  the  door  to  Violetta 
and  ushered  her  into  a  pretty  room  with  French  windows 
opening  into  a  fairly  large  garden,  at  the  end  of  which 
was  the  river.  Comfortable,  like  the  rest  of  the  house, 
but  again  a  complete  contrast  to  the  oak-panelled 
morning  room  at  Normanhurst. 

She  had  not  long  to  wait.  Ella  burst  in  upon  her 
with  that  hurried,  almost  rushing  manner,  which  Vio- 
letta remembered  so  well. 

"  My  dear  Vi,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you.  How  awfully 
sweet  of  you  to  come  !  "  she  cried  in  a  high-pitched 
voice. 

Violetta  found  herself  being  kissed  effusively,  then 
held  at  arms'  length,  and  being  kissed  again. 

Ella  Norman  had  always  been  a  gusher,  and  she 
seemed  to  Violetta  to  be  more  gushing  than  ever.  At 
seventeen  it  could  be  put  up  with,  but  at  twenty-two 
it  was  slightly  over-powering.  In  addition,  she  had  a 
way  of  swarming  over  one,  which  Violetta  had  always 
found  rather  irritating.  Just  now  it  was  particularly 
so.  She  was  half  a  head  taller  than  her  visitor,  slim 
and  undulating,  and  her  long  arms,  after  being  stretched 
out  after  the  fashion  of  the  angel  on  the  preposterous 
Guards'  Memorial  in  Waterloo  Place,  enfolded  Violetta 
in  a  kind  of  bear's  hug.  Despite  this  overwhelming 
affection  Violetta  was  quite  conscious  that  her  appear- 
ance and  her  dress  were  being  closely  scrutinised. 

Then  the  two  looked  at  each  other  appraisingly,  as 
women  do  who  have  not  seen  each  other  for  a  long  time. 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  53 

Violetta  knew  by  the  faint  shade  of  disappointment 
which  crept  over  Ella's  face,  that  she  expected  to  find 
the  wanderer  had  "  gone  off,"  and  that  the  contrary 
had  happened.  As  for  Ella,  she  had  decidedly  deterior- 
ated. The  dark  half-circles  beneath  the  eyes  and  the 
pinched-in  sallow  cheeks,  showed  that  she  was  inclined 
to  be  neurotic. 

Viloetta  was  sorry  but  not  surprised.  If  only  half 
the  misfortunes  hinted  at  in  Ella's  letter  had  taken  place, 
the  experience  was  enough  to  leave  traces  behind.  But 
she  asked  no  questions,  she  knew  the  story  would  come. 
Ella  was  not  one  to  keep  her  woes  to  herself. 

"  Come  and  see  your  room,  dear,"  was  Ella's  remark 
after  the  look  of  inspection.  "  I  want  you  to  stay  a 
long,  long  time  with  me." 

"  Oh,  but  I've  not  come  prepared  to  do  that.  I've 
brought  nothing  with  me." 

"  That  doesn't  matter.  You  can  easily  wire  in- 
structions to  have  your  luggage  sent  on.  Meanwhile, 
with  my  help  you  can  make  shift.  It  isn't  boating 
weather  yet,  so  you  won't  be  asked  to  spoil  that  charm- 
ing dress,  as  it  certainly  would  be  spoilt  if  John  had  the 
handling  of  the  punt.  He  hasn't  got  the  hang  of  the 
pole  yet,  and  he  splashes  awfully." 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  baronet's  sedateness  and 
incapacity  that  his  sister  always  spoke  of  him  as  "  John," 
never  as  "  Jack." 

"  He's  on  the  river  now,"  went  on  Ella,  as  they  as- 
cended the  staircase.  "  I  persuaded  him  to  come  here. 
The  doctor  said  he  was  thoroughly  run  down  and  wanted 
a  complete  change  and  plenty  of  open  air  exercise. 
Boating  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  best  antidote  to  that 
detestable  racing,  so  when  the  collapse  came  and 
ruin  was  in  sight,  I  took  this  furnished  house  and  brought 
him  here.  He  was  really  incapable  of  thinking  for  him- 
self. Oh,  my  dear  Violetta,  I've  heaps  to  tell  you. 
It's  a  wonder  I'm  not  dead  with  worry.  What's  going 
to  happen  I  haven't  the  least  idea.  Of  course,  our 


54  A   QUEEN   oF   THE   PADDOCK 

affairs  are  in  the  hands  of  the  lawyers,  and  you  know 
what  snails  they  are." 

Talking  incessantly  and  buzzing  about  Violetta, 
hindering  rather  than  helping  her  to  disrobe  herself, 
Ella  showed  sufficiently  the  state  of  her  nerves  by  her 
passing  from  one  subject  to  another  without  the  slightest 
connecting  link,  and  by  her  spasmodic  "  oh  dear,  oh 
dear,"  which  seemed  to  come  from  her  more  by  force 
of  habit  than  from  any  emotional  necessity. 

At  last  they  were  seated  quietly  in  the  room  with 
the  French  windows.  Ella  ordered  tea  and  plunged 
without  preface  into  a  recital  of  her  brother's  disasters. 

"  It's  all  come  about  through  races  and  betting.  I 
assure  you  I  never  suspected  anything  of  the  kind.  Of 
course,  John  was  always  fond  of  horses,  but  I  thought 
his  taste  never  went  beyond  hunters,  and  those  cost  him 
no  end  of  money,  Heaven  knows — one  lump,  or  two, 
dear  ?  No  sugar  ?  Oh  well,  we  can  still  afford  that 
luxury  in  spite  of  the  price.  What  was  I  telling  you  ?  " 

"  About  Sir  John's  love  of  hunting." 

"  Oh  yes.  I  used  to  be  thankful  that  he  had  a  hobby 
as  it  kept  his  mind  from  dwelling  on  poor  Alice.  She, 
I  needn't  say,  was  a  constant  drag  upon  him.  He  paid 
the  doctor  who  had  charge  of  her  £750  a  year,  and  then 
there  were  continual  extras.  I  know  he  looked  forward 
to  a  life-long  infliction,  and  perhaps  had  he  anticipated 
she  was  so  soon  to  pass  away,  he  might  not  have  been 
so  foolish.  It's  a  terrible  thing  that  the  marriage  laws 
are  so  stupid.  He  ought  to  have  been  able  to  free 
himself — I  mean  so  far  as  the  marriage  tie  was  con- 
cerned— but  there  it  was.  He  was  helpless.  You  see 
the  hunting  season  only  lasts  a  few  months,  and  what 
was  he  to  do  the  rest  of  the  year  ?  It  never  occurred  to 
me  when  he  took  to  going  to  races  that  he  had  any 
interest  in  anything  beyond  the  animals." 

"  Did  you  really  imagine  that  ?  "  asked  Violetta 
with  a  elevation  of  her  dark  eyebrows  at  the  ends  nearest 
the  nose,  which  always  charmed  the  men. 


55 

"  Yes,  why  not  ?  I've  always  heard  that  racing  was 
supported  because  it  improved  the  breed  of  horses." 

"  Rubbish.  That's  a  part  of  our  English  self-decep- 
tion. No  one  serioush'  believes  it.  Stop  betting  and 
you  stop  races.  Not  that  I  see  any  harm  in  betting." 

"  No  harm  !  Violetta,  it's  horrible.  You  don't  know. 
You  don't  understand." 

Violetta  was  inclined  to  laugh,  but  she  kept  her 
countenance. 

"  Haven't  I  told  you  it  was  betting  which  practically 
ruined  John  ?  At  the  same  time,  he  mightn't  have  been 
so  foolish  but  for  a  friend  of  his — a  man  who  was  with 
him  at  Balliol.  They  hadn't  seen  each  other  for  years 
when  unluckily  they  met  accidentally  at  Newmarket. 
I  never  could  get  much  out  of  John  how  it  was  brought 
about,  but  it's  certain  he  came  under  the  influence  of 
this  man,  who,  though  of  good  family,  is,  I'm  sure,  a 
shocking  blackguard.  I  saw  him  once,  and  once  was 
quite  enough." 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  "    asked  Violetta  suddenly. 

"  George  Godfree.  I  believe  he's  entitled  to  call 
himself  '  The  Honourable,'  and  that's  the  only  thing 
about  him  that  is  honourable.  He's  connected  with  the 
Fitzhaughton  family.  The  Marquis  of  Fitzhaughton 
was  his  uncle  or  brother-in-law.  Some  relation  anyhow. 
I  never  cared  to  enquire  what,  I  hated  the  man  too 
much." 

George  Godfree  !  Gentleman  George  !  For  a  moment 
Violetta's  heart  sank.  She  felt  almost  terrified.  It 
was  not  that  she  was  afraid  of  Godfree,  but  it  was  so 
strange  that  the  working  of  Fate  should  have  thrown 
Gentleman  George  in  her  way  twice  within  forty-eight 
hours.  His  connection  with  Norman's  downfall  was 
certainly  a  serious  matter.  Soon  she  recovered  her- 
self sufficiently  to  ask  : 

"  Did  your  brother  run  any  horses  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  never  told  me  he  did,  but,  of 
course,  he  may  have  done  so.  You  see,  I  was  mostly  in 


56  A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

town.  I  was  very  much  occupied  at  the  time  with 
various  social  movements.  Christian  Science  was 
greatly  interesting  me  just  then,  and  soon  after  I  took 
up  the  Religious  Stage  Society.  Studying  the  old  Mys- 
tery Plays  I  found  exceedingly  absorbing,  and  really 
I  had  no  leisure  for  enquiring  what  John  was  doing. 
Why  should  I  ?  There  was  no  need — at  least,  so  I 
thought.  Of  course,  I  knew  nothing  about  his  friend- 
ship with  Godfree — nor  about  Godfree  either." 

Violetta  hardly  heard  what  Ella  was  saying.  She 
didn't  care  a  fig  for  Christian  Science  or  for  Mystery 
Plays.  George  Godfree  was  in  her  thoughts.  She  was 
wondering  with  what  gang  he  was  in  league.  Gentry 
of  his  kind  never  worked  by  themselves.  Their  schemes 
for  swindling  the  unwary  required  more  than  one  hand. 
Gentleman  George,  with  his  insinuating  society  tone 
and  manner  when  it  was  necessary  to  use  them,  and  his 
real  knowledge  of  society  ways,  was  invaluable  as  a 
decoy,  but  he  had  not  the  brains  to  originate  a  modus 
operandi  or  to  carry  one  out. 

Violetta  was  brought  back  to  the  subject  by  Ella 
entering  into  a  long  and  involved  story  how  John  had 
got  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  mire  and  at  last  had  to 
sell  Normanhurst. 

"  I  don't  exactly  understand  how  it  came  about," 
said  she.  "  I  never  could  grasp  figures  or  law." 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  said  Violetta. 

"  Well,  I  daresay  John  could  tell  you  if  you  care  to 
ask." 

"  But  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have,  but  I  couldn't  make  head  or  tail 
of  the  affair.  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  awfully  compli- 
cated. The  only  thing  really  definite  was  that  when 
all  the  debts  were  paid  there  remained  enough  to  bring 
in  about  £1,000  a  year,  and  we  both  have  to  live  upon 
it." 

"  You  may  marry  well.  You  hinted  that  you  were 
engaged,"  put  in  Violetta. 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  57 

"  Oh,  well,  nothing's  settled.     It  can't  be "  she 

broke  off  suddenly. 

"  There's  John.  Shall  we  go  and  meet  him  ?  "  she 
exclaimed. 

Violetta  was  only  too  glad.  She  found  the  con- 
tinuous pouring  out  of  sympathy  to  be  a  little  trying. 
The  interruption  was  also  acceptable  for  another  reason. 
Ella  at  any  moment  might  dart  off  at  a  tangent  and 
enquire  what  she  had  been  doing  during  the  past  four 
years,  and  though  Violetta  was  ready  with  a  story  she 
was  not  at  all  anxious  to  tell  it.  The  inventive  tale 
might  break  down  under  cross-examination.  No  doubt 
at  some  time  or  another  Ella  would  question  her,  but 
the  longer  the  ordeal  was  delayed  the  better. 

The  two  passed  into  the  garden.  A  head  and  shoulders 
— the  first  surmounted  by  a  boating  cap,  the  second 
swathed  in  a  muffler — could  be  seen  rising  slowly  above 
the  river  bank.  Soon  the  whole  figure  was  visible — 
tall  and  slim,  resembling  Ella's  conformation  of  body, 
but  not  so  willowy. 

Recalling  her  castle  in  the  air  at  Monte  Carlo  when 
she  first  learned  that  Lady  Norman  was  dead,  Violetta 
regarded  the  man  crossing  the  lawn,  his  walk  half  slouch- 
ing, half  springy,  with  no  little  curiosity.  She  remem- 
bered perfectly  well  how  he  looked  at  Normanhurst, 
and  she  wondered  whether  ill  luck  had  affected  him. 
Of  course,  her  aerial  castle  had  toppled  over  at 
Ella's  story,  but  the  ruins  had  still  some  interest  for 
her. 

Norman  suddenly  straightened  himself  and  raised 
his  cap.  Violetta  thought  he  was  better  looking  than 
when  she  last  saw  him.  His  dark  hair,  which  came 
rather  low  down  on  his  forehead,  showed  streaks  of 
grey,  but  his  drooping  moustache  was  unchanged. 
His  expression  was  as  refined  as  ever,  but  seemed  to  show 
more  decision.  His  eyes,  like  Ella's,  somewhat  dreamy, 
were  in  keeping  with  the  reputation  he  had  among  his 
friends  of  being  a  poet.  Violetta  had  forgotten  this 


58  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

side  of  his  character,  and  it  came  back  to  her  memory 
with  a  sense  of  surprise. 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  Miss  Vaughan,  for  not  being 
here  to  welcome  you,"  said  he.  "  Ella  didn't  appear 
to  know  what  time  you  were  coming.  Anyhow,  I  hope 
she's  looked  after  you  properly." 

"  You  needn't  have  any  doubt  on  that  score,  Sir 
John.  I  am  quite  at  home  already." 

"  There's  not  much  to  feel  at  home  with.  At  any 
rate,  I've  no  horses  now  to  show  you,"  said  he. 

"  I  admire  other  things  besides  horses." 

"  I  doubt  if  you'll  find  many  here,  and  what  there  is 
isn't  mine." 

"  The  river  ?  " 

"  I  share  that  in  common  with  others.  Are  you 
fond  of  boating?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it." 

"  Then  we'll  go  out  to-morrow  providing  it's  fine. 
I'll  give  you  a  lesson  if  you  like." 

"  Don't  try  punting,"  put  in  Ella.  "  It's  all  very 
well  in  the  summer  when  the  trickling  of  cold  water 
down  your  arm  isn't  unpleasant ;  but  in  this  weather — 
ugh  !  " 

"  I  didn't  say  punting.  We'll  have  the  double  sculler. 
You  may  steer  us,  Ella,  if  you'll  promise  to  keep  your 
thoughts  fixed  on  the  rudder  lines.  You're  not  to  be 
trusted,  you  know." 

"  You'd  better  wait  until  Violetta's  luggage  comes. 
I'm  not  going  to  let  her  spoil  her  pretty  frock.  There's 
no  hurry,  because  I  want  Violetta  to  stay  with  us  a  long, 
long  time — that  is,  if  her  plans  will  allow  her." 

"  Yes — yes.    You  must  stay,"  urged  Norman. 

"  You're  very  kind,  but  I  don't  intend  to  inflict 
myself  upon  you,"  said  Violetta,  who  did  not  fail  to 
note  the  sudden  intensity  of  Sir  John's  gaze.  "  For  a 
few  days  I'm  unsettled  and  if  you  don't  mind  putting 
up  with  me  while  I'm  looking  out  for  a  post  of  some 
kind,  I  shall  be  very  thankful." 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  59 

"  There's  plenty  of  time  for  that.  After  I've  made 
myself  decent,  I'll  join  you  two.  Seven  o'clock  I 
suppose,  as  usual,  Ella  ?  " 

His  sister  nodded,  and  the  baronet  raising  his  cap 
slowly,  sauntered  towards  the  house. 

"  How  do  you  think  John  looks  ?  "  enquired  Ella 
anxiously. 

"  Better  than  I  should  have  expected  after  what  he's 
gone  through." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  I  hope  you're  right.  The 
question  that's  worrying  me  is  what  is  he  going  to  do  ? 
At  his  age  he  ought  to  get  rid  of  his  purposeless  life  and 
have  some  occupation." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  one  generally  regards  existence 
according  to  one's  temperament.  Your  brother  always 
seemed  to  be  fairly  busy  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  Yes,  but  he  had  Normanhurst  to  look  after.  Now 
that  is  gone  he  is  like  a  derelict  drifting  anywhere,  and 
he  may  come  into  collision  with  something  ugly  and 
awkward  and  be  smashed  entirely." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Violetta,  don't  you  understand  ?  "  cried 
Ella,  impatiently.  "  In  his  present  mood  he's  liable 
to  be  imposed  upon  by  any  designing  woman  who  takes 
the  trouble  to  capture  him." 

"  Such  women  are  not  usually  ugly  and  awkward," 
remarked  Violetta  drily. 

"  Well,  we  needn't  go  into  details.  I  know  very  well 
that  during  the  last  two  years  he  must  have  mixed  with 
very  queer  society,  both  men  and  women,  on  the  race- 
course. He  was  bound  to,  3^011  know — or  perhaps  you 
don't  know." 

"  I'll  take  your  word  for  it.  But  if  occupation  is  to 
be  his  protection  against  these  dangers,  why  doesn't  he 
get  some  Government  post  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  if  he's  fitted  for  Government  work.  He's 
frightfully  unbusinesslike.  Of  course,  I'm  aware  a  man 
needn't  be  clever  to  do  all  that's  wanted  in  the  War  Office 


60  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

or  Foreign  Office.  If  you  turn  up  every  morning  like 
a  piece  of  clockwork,  and  are  contented  with  filling  up 
forms  and  are  not  silly  enough  to  suggest  improvements 
and  are  never  in  a  hurry,  I  believe  you  get  on  all  right. 
Cleverness  in  a  Government  Department  means  the 
knack  of  shifting  responsibility  on  to  another  Depart- 
ment, never  knowing  anything,  holding  your  tongue, 
and  taking  as  many  holidays  as  the  chief  will  stand. 
John's  a  good  deal  too  conscientious  for  that  sort  of 
thing ;  besides,  he's  too  fond  of  airing  his  own  opinion, 
and  as  he's  generally  wrong,  you  see  what  a  mess  he'd 
get  into.  No,  there's  only  one  thing  I  can  see  for  him." 

"  Ah,  and  what's  that  ?  " 

"  Marriage,  my  dear.  Marriage  with  a  level-headed 
rich  woman  who's  above  the  frivolity  of  the  tastes  of 
the  present  day  and  who  takes  life  seriously." 

"  Oh  yes.  A  bishop's  widow,  for  instance.  It's  a 
pity  so  few  of  them  are  about." 

Ella  looked  up  sharply.  Was  her  dear  friend  pulling 
her  leg  ?  " 

But  Violetta's  face  never  moved  a  muscle. 


CHAPTER    VII 

"  I'VE    SWORN    TO    BE    MASTER    OF    NORMANHURST 
ONCE  MORE  " 

THEjiext  day  was  wet.  The  river  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. There  was  quite  sufficient  dampness  in  the  air 
outside  and  inside  the  house  to  satisfy  anj'body  with 
aquatic  tastes.  Violetta  hadn't  the  slightest  inclination 
for  boating  exercise,  and  secretly  was  pleased  she  had 
escaped.  Reclining  languorously  on  the  cushions  of  a 
punt — preferably  amber  cushions,  as  the  tint  would 
intensify  the  violet  blue  of  the  Irish  eyes  she  had  in- 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  6r 

herited  from  her  mother — was  a  different  matter.  But 
the  picture  demanded  a  scorching  sun  and  the  contrast 
of  the  deep  purple  shadows  of  the  overhanging  trees 
of  Cliefden.  Norman  suggested  billiards  for  the  morn- 
ing's amusement,  and  this  was  entirely  to  her  fancy. 

"  Then  you  won't  want  me,"  put  in  Ella. 

"  Thanks  no,  old  girl.  The  last  time  you  marked  for 
me  and  Percival  you  were  perpetually  giving  him  my 
score  as  well  as  his  own.  That's  the  drawback  of  an 
engaged  girl,  Miss  Vaughan.  She  can  think  of  nobody 
but  the  man  she's  taken  under  her  wing." 

"  Don't  be  stupid,  John,"  returned  his  sister,  half 
annoyed  and  half  pleased.  "  As  for  marking  for  you,  I'm 
only  too  glad  to  escape.  The  click  of  the  balls  is  apt 
to  get  on  my  nerves,  and  the  talk  peculiar  to  the  game 
bores  me  to  death.  Why  don't  you  billiard  players 
find  something  more  original  to  say  than  '  hard  lines,' 
"  just  missed  it,  by  Jove,'  '  sorry  old  man,'  when  3^ou 
pocket  the  other  one's  white  ball,  and  so  on  ?  " 

"  You've  left  out  the  most  important  expression 
'  dammit.'  I  admit  there's  not  much  variation,  but  I 
suppose  no  other  words  fit  the  situations  so  well.  How 
are  you  going  to  amuse  yourself  this  morning  ?  " 

"  I  shall  call  on  the  Vicar.  I'm  awfully  keen  on 
interesting  him  in  our  religious  stage  work.  He's  a  bit 
afraid  of  some  of  his  congregation,  but  I'm  in  hopes  of 
talking  him  over.  His  mind  at  present's  a  perfect 
blank  on  the  subject.  He  knows  nothing  about  the  old 
Mystery  and  Miracle  Plays.  We're  going  to  revive  one, 
Violetta.  You  ought  to  be  a  member  of  our  Society. 
I  believe  you'd  do  one  of  the  characters  splendidly." 

"  Please  don't  ask  me.  I'm  sure  I  should  be  a  frightful 
duffer." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure.  You  used  to  take  part  in  the  plays 
at  school  that  we  used  to  get  up  on  prize-giving  days." 

"  That's  a  different  thing.  I'm  as  ignorant  as  the 
Vicar  about  religious  plays." 

"  Oh,  there's  an  excuse  for  you  but  not  for  him.     He 


62  A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

didn't  even  know  until  I  told  him  that  the  drama  really 
had  its  origin  in  the  church,  and  he  looked  quite 
horrified." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  her  brother.  "  He  was 
afraid  you'd  be  asking  him  to  lend  you  his  church  for 
a  theatrical  show." 

"  I  wish  you'd  take  up  the  study,  John.  It  would  at 
least  give  you  an  interesting  subject  to  think  about." 

"  I  hate  what  you  call  '  interesting  '  subjects.  They're 
only  called  interesting  because  you  don't  know  what 
else  to  say  about  them.  But  go  and  convert  the  Vicar 
by  all  means." 

Ella  went  off  in  something  like  a  huff,  and  Norman, 
turning  to  Violetta,  said  lightly  : 

"  That's  how  my  discussions  with  Ella  always  end. 
When  she  finds  herself  cornered  she  takes  to  her  heels. 
She's  sometimes  impossible.  If  she  were  not  for  ever 
formulating  rules  of  conduct  for  my  guidance,  her  im- 
possibility wouldn't  matter  much,  but  unfortunately 
I'm  one  of  her  hobbies.  Do  you  know  I  had  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  persuading  her  that  a  bililard  room  was 
indispensable  in  any  house  she  might  select.  How  on 
earth  could  I  amuse  myself  indoors  on  a  day  like  this 
without  one  ?  I  suppose  she  saw  this,  as  she  eventually 
gave  in.  There  are  two  or  three  decent  boating  men 
who  live  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  they  now  and  again 
drop  in.  You  play  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  little,  but  after  what  you've  told  me  I  should 
be  ashamed  to  show  my  awkwardness  before  an  expert." 

"  I'm  very  far  from  being  that.  Occasionally  I  play 
a  decent  game,  at  other  times  I'm  simply  out  of  it. 
It  all  depends  upon  the  mood  I'm  in,  I  suppose." 

"  I  hope  you're  in  good  form  this  morning." 

"  I  ought  to  be." 

He  smiled  at  her  and  his  eyes  twinkled.  That  look 
on  his  face  was  new  to  Violetta.  She  could  not  remem- 
ber anything  like  it  when  she  was  staying  at  Norman- 
hurst.  He  struck  her  then  as  remote,  unfriended, 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  63 

melancholy,  slow,  especially  the  two  last.  Animation 
certainly  improved  him.  Perhaps  the  cloud  of  his 
matrimonial  trouble  was  the  cause  of  his  subdued  aspect 
in  the  old  days.  Or  had  she  misread  his  character  ? 
Whatever  it  was  she  was  disposed  to  be  more  interested 
in  him  than  she  had  anticipated. 

"  Of  course  you  ought.  I  want  to  pick  up  a  few 
hints." 

"  I'll  do  my  best.  One  thing's  in  my  favour — I 
shan't  have  any  bets  on." 

"  Do  you  bet  on  the  game  ?  " 

"  Generally.  It  puts  a  little  spice  into  the  play, 
though  I  must  confess  it  often  spoils  mine.  Directly 
I  have  the  slightest  responsibility  I  begin  to  feel  nervous. 
It's  a  beastly  stupid  weakness,  but  I've  never  been  able 
to  conquer  it.  In  fact " 

He  stopped  abruptly.  Violetta  looked  at  him  en- 
quiringly, but  he  said  no  more. 

The  billiard  room  was  built  out  from  the  house,  and 
the  housekeeper — the  only  one  of  the  old  Normanhurst 
servants  who  had  been  retained — knowing  her  master's 
tastes,  had  had  a  fire  lighted.  The  blaze  was  a  sufficient 
antidote  to  the  drabness  and  damp  of  the  outside,  and 
the  room  was  really  inviting  with  its  crimson  walls 
adorned  with  sporting  prints  depicting  byegone 
champions  of  the  racecourse. 

Norman's  eyes  followed  Violetta's  as  they  glanced 
at  the  pictures.  Horses  appealed  to  her  irresistibly. 

"  I'd  half  a  mind  to  have  these  things  removed  when 
I  took  the  place,"  said  he,  half  apologetiaclly. 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  They  gave  my  conscience  a  twinge.  But  I've  got 
used  to  them  now.  I  can  see  they  interest  you,  so  I'm 
glad  I  let  them  remain." 

"  Anything  to  do  with  horses  I  like." 

She  walked  slowly  round  the  room,  reading  the  in- 
scriptions recording  the  victories  of  "  Voltigeur,"  "  The 
Flying  Dutchman,"  "  Blink  Bonny,"  "  Donovan," 


64  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  Eclipse,"  "  Pretty  Polly,"  "  Ormonde,"  and  other 
dead  and  gone  celebrities,  while  Norman  got  out  the 
balls  and  spotted  the  red.  He  gave  her  the  choice  of  the 
white  balls.  She  chose  the  plain,  and  she  opened  with 
the  usual  miss  in  baulk. 

"  You  know  something,"  said  he,  laughingly.  "  Ella, 
when  she  deigns  to  play,  which  isn't  often,  can  never 
manage  the  safety  stroke.  She  goes  for  the  red  in- 
variably and  nearly  always  misses  it  and  lets  me  in." 

His  reply  should,  of  course,  have  been  another  miss 
in  baulk,  but  he  went  for  the  red  and  left  her  an  easy 
cannon.  She  guessed  that  he  made  the  stroke  out  of 
politeness,  and  she  purposely  mis-cued,  and  her  ball 
rolled  into  a  pocket  without  hitting  either  the  red  or 
the  white. 

"  Better  luck  next  time,"  was  Norman's  comment. 

The  red  was  over  the  middle  pocket  and  he  could  not 
very  well  avoid  scoring  without  obviously  betraying 
his  desire  to  see  her  win.  The  game  went  on.  Do 
what  he  would,  Norman  always  found  himself  a  little 
ahead.  Violetta  made  no  break  of  any  account,  but 
what  puzzled  her  antagonist  was  that  when  she  went 
for  a  particularly  difficult  stroke  she  always  brought  it 
off.  On  the  other  hand,  she  missed  some  ridiculously 
easy  ones.  The  game  ended  in  Norman's  favour  in 
spite  of  his  intention  to  lose. 

"  I  don't  understand  your  play,"  said  he.  "  You 
made  some  amazing  shots.  I  never  thought  you'd  go 
for  them.  But  you  had  bad  luck.  The  game  ought  to 
have  been  yours  anyway." 

"  I  suppose  so.  You  did  your  best  to  help  me,  you 
know." 

He  flushed  slightly.  His  little  ruse  to  please  her  had 
failed.  The  tone  of  her  voice  as  well  as  her  words 
told  him  that. 

"  I  confess  it.  The  plain  truth  is  I  underrated  your 
skill  and  benefited  by  what  you  call  your  bad  luck.  I 
wanted  you  to  win,  but  I  don/t  believe  you  tried." 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  65 

"  That's  my  impression  about  you,  Sir  John — unless 
you  were  in  one  of  your  moods." 

"  Honestly,  I  played  up  as  though  I  was  in  form. 
But  come  now,  did  either  of  us  go  straight  ?  You've 
seen  what  I  can't  do.  I  saw  lots  of  chances  you'd  have 
gone  for  but  I  funked  them.  What  do  you  say — shall 
we  try  again  and  do  our  level  best  ?  " 

"  If  you  like,  so  long  as  you  don't  hate  me  if  I  beat 
you." 

"  Hate  you,  Violetta — by  the  way,  it  used  to  be 
Violetta  at  Normanhurst." 

"  I  don't  remember." 

But  she  did  quite  well. 

"  Well,  it  must  be  Violetta  once  more.  No.  I  won't 
hate  you  whatever  you  do — I  couldn't.  Now  I  warn 
you,  I'm  going  to  play  as  I  never  played  before.  I've 
a  horrible  feeling  that  you  ought  to  give  me  twenty  in  a 
hundred." 

"  Nonsense.  Do  you  always  have  nervous  fears  you 
won't  succeed  when  you  attempt  anything  ?  "  asked 
Violetta  a  little  scornfully. 

"  Very  often,  I  own." 

"  It's  a  great  mistake.  Haven't  you  heard  the  old 
foxhunter's  advice  when  about  to  jump  a  fence  ?  Throw 
your  heart  over  first,  he  said,  and  your  horse  will  follow. 
It's  true." 

"  By  Jove,  that's  a  fact.  Then  we  start  level.  I 
break,  I  suppose,  according  to  the  rules." 

Violetta,  nodding,  chalked  her  cue. 

Norman  gave  the  customary  safety  miss  and  Violetta 
going  for  the  red  accomplished  a  difficult  cannon.  The 
positions  that  followed  were  easy,  and  so  far  from 
fumbling  and  mis-cueing  as  in  the  first  game,  she  kept 
the  balls  well  together  and  left  off  with  a  start  of 
twenty-five  and  with  a  double  baulk  for  her  op- 
ponent. 

"  You  take  my  breath  away.  See  what  you've 
left  me," 


66  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  Not  much,  I  admit.  Are  you  going  in  for  bold- 
ness ?  There's  a  possible  cannon  on." 

"  I  daresay,  but  it's  not  possible  for  me.  My  choice 
lies  between  safety  and  a  fluke.  I'll  try  the  latter  just 
to  show  you  I  haven't  forgotten  what  the  huntsman 
said." 

He  struck  the  ball  recklessly.  The  cannon  was  not 
achieved,  but  unexpectedly  he  went  in  off  the  red. 
The  latter  was  in  baulk  and  Violetta's  ball  tucked  under 
the  cushion.  Naturally,  he  left  the  white  alone  and 
played  at  the  red.  He  missed  it,  and  his  own  ball 
remained  in  baulk. 

The  stroke  in  front  of  Violetta  was  enormously 
difficult.  Her  ball  was  at  the  top  end  of  the  table  and 
almost  angled.  She  could  hardly  expect  to  do  more 
than  go  for  one  or  the  other  ball  and  not  attempt  to 
score. 

"  You'll  have  to  trust  to  your  luck  this  time,  Violetta," 
Norman  explained. 

"  Indeed  I  won't.  I'm  going  to  pot  the  red  and  maybe 
my  own  ball  too.  At  least,  that's  what  I  shall  try 
for.  They're  nearly  in  a  direct  line  from  where  I  am." 

Nonnan  held  his  breath  while  he  watched  her. 
Violetta's  statuesque  pose  while  measuring  the  distance 
with  her  eye  and  estimating  the  exact  amount  of  force 
necessary,  seemed  to  Norman  to  personify  the  very 
poetry  of  billiards. 

Violetta  was  wearing  the  dress  in  which  she  arrived, 
her  everyday  wardrobe  not  having  yet  come  to  hand. 
Her  corsage  was  in  the  fashion  favoured  by  pretty 
women  to  whom  nature  has  generously  given  full 
curves.  It  was  cut  low  at  the  neck  and  back,  the  sleeves 
were  very  short  and  there  was  a  studied  absence  of 
trimmings  in  the  way  of  frills,  lace  and  whatnot. 
Obviously  the  costume  was  very  trying  to  those  not 
qualified  to  wear  it.  Violetta  would  have  taken  first 
prize  in  a  competition  in  this  style  of  dress. 

Her  arms  were  beautifully  shaped,  as  Norman  could 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  67 

not  help  seeing  when  she  had  to  hold  the  cue  at  an 
angle  of  nearly  sixty  degrees  in  order  to  strike  the  ball 
at  the  exact  spot.  The  position  of  the  body  and  the 
elevated  right  arm  slackened  the  front  of  the  bodice, 
and  for  an  instant  the  symmetrical  lines  of  the  bust 
were  revealed.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  steadily  on  the 
object  ball  and  the  brows  slightly  drawn  together. 
For  a  couple  of  seconds  she  stood  motionless,  and  then 
in  a  flash  the  statue  came  to  life. 

It  was  a  moment  of  concentrated  energy.  Force 
was  not  so  much  wanted  as  a  restraint  of  force.  The 
exact  pace  had  to  be  given  to  the  ball  and  no  more. 
It  rolled  along  as  if  conscious  of  the  skilful  hands  that 
had  guided  it.  It  clicked  the  red  ball  gently  and  sent 
it  very  slowly  into  the  pocket  and  followed  behind 
as  if  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure. 

"  Great  Scott  !  "  ejaculated  Norman.  "  Who  on 
earth  taught  you  to  do  that  ?  John  Roberts  himself 
couldn't  beat  it." 

"  My  father  was  a  very  fine  billiard  player.  I  learned 
from  him  pretty  well  all  I  know." 

"  Well,  but  you  must  have  practised  an  awful  lot. 
You  can't  become  a  player  of  your  rank  in  five  min- 
utes." 

"  I  suppose  I  was  an  apt  pupil,"  laughed  Violetta. 

She  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  add  that  she  had 
many  spare  hours  at  the  club,  and  that  she  often  devoted 
them  to  billiards.  She  became  so  expert  that  she  had 
no  hesitation  in  opposing  the  best  players  among  the 
members.  As  more  than  one  were  little  better  than 
sharpers  and  up  to  every  trick  of  the  game,  it  is  more 
than  probable  she  learned  as  much  from  them  as  from 
her  father. 

The  game  proceeded.  The  feat  just  described  was 
the  only  one  out  of  the  common  that  she  indulged  in, 
and  she  did  not  trouble  to  do  more  than  run  up  a  break 
out  of  easy  shots.  Of  course,  she  won,  but  she  let 
him  down  easy,  and  ran  out  the  victor  by  ten  points. 


68  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

Norman  took  his  defeat  very  good-humouredly  and 
was  warm  in  his  praise. 

"  That  ten  points  doesn't  represent  the  real  difference 
between  us.  You  could  give  me  twenty-five — thirty 
in  a  hundred  and  still  beat  me  to  a  frazzle.  You're  a 
witch  at  the  game.  I  only  know  one  man— among 
amateurs,  I  mean — who  could  meet  you  on  level 
ground." 

"  Yes  ?     Does  he  come  here  ?  " 

"  No,  and  I  wouldn't  have  him.  We  were  great 
chums  at  Oxford,  and  he  was  a  decent  chap,  I  always 
thought.  But  since  then — well,  he's  turned  out  a 
blackguard.  I  don't  think  I'd  care  to  come  across 
him  now.  There  might  be  ructions." 

John  Norman's  face  darkened  and,  turning  abruptly 
from  Violetta,  he  walked  to  the  fire  and  stood  looking 
at  the  blazing  coals,  his  back  turned  towards  his  com- 
panion. 

Had  he  chosen  to  glance  at  Violetta  he  would  have 
seen  that  she  was  as  much  disturbed  as  he  himself  was. 
It  had  crossed  her  mind  with  a  feeling  of  certainty  that 
the  man  he  referred  to  was  Goorge  Godfree.  She  knew 
his  method  of  play  quite  well  and  could  just  hold  her 
own  with  him. 

Norman  turned.  His  face  had  resumed  its  usual 
composure. 

"  Shall  we  play  the  conqueror  ?  You  to  give  me 
thirty  points  ?  " 

"  No.  We've  each  won  a  game.  Let's  remain  on 
terms  of  equality." 

"  As  you  please.  What  about  a  cigarette  ?  I'll 
bet  that  you  smoke.  You  couldn't  possibly  have 
found  out  all  you  know  about  billiards  without." 

"  How  long  will  Ella  be  ?  "  she  asked  hesitatingly. 

"  What  ?  Are  you  among  the  crowd  that  Ella 
rules  with  a  rod  of  iron  ?  " 

"  Not  quite  that.  I  know  her  views  on  the  matter, 
and  I  don't  want  to  hurt  her  feelings." 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  69 

"  Ella's  feelings  ?  I  doubt  whether  she  has  any. 
Real  feeling,  I  mean.  It's  funny  that  whenever  any 
family  matter  is  under  discussion  the  first  thing  every- 
body asks  is  what  Ella  will  think — what  will  she  say? 
She  exercises  some  horrible  spell.  I  find  myself  under 
its  influence  constantly.  Are  you  going  to  alter  your 
mind  ?  "  and  he  held  out  his  cigarette  case,  but  Violetta 
shook  her  head. 

They  were  now  seated  on  a  Chesterfield  in  front  of 
the  fire  and  Violetta  made  no  reply  to  Norman's 
reference  to  Ella.  At  the  same  time,  she  quite  agreed 
with  him,  for  she  remembered  how  at  school  Ella  in 
her  semi-hysterical  "  swarming "  way  dominated  the 
rest.  Violetta  used  to  think  that  Ella  would  de- 
velop into  an  extremely  unpleasant  tyrannical  old 
woman. 

Norman  went  on  smoking  silently  and  staring  at 
the  fire.  Suddenly  he  broke  out : 

"  I  suppose  she's  told  you  all  about  my  mad  folly — 
racing,  betting,  the  loss  of  Normanhurst,  and  all  the 
rest  of  my  crazy  doings  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  referred  in  a  way  to  your  heavy  losses. 
It  came  upon  me  quite  as  a  shock  to  hear  that  you  had 
to  sell  Normanhurst." 

"  It  was  a  bit  of  a  wrench,  and  it's  left  me  stranded — 
just  for  the  moment — but " 

"  Then  you  have  some  plans  for  the  future,"  put  in 
Violetta,  to  fill  up  a  somewhat  embarrassing  pause. 

"  In  a  way.  I've  sworn  to  be  master  of  Normanhurst 
once  more,  but  how  the  deuce  I'm  going  to  do  it  beats 
me.  You  see,  I'm  left  entirely  to  myself,  and  I'm 
not  much  good  by  myself.  Ella  knows  that  as  well 
as  I  do,  and  she's  perpetually  worrying  me  with  sugges- 
tions, all  more  or  less  impracticable.  What  I  want  is 
some  clever  shrewd  person  always  at  my  elbow — 
one  I  can  talk  to — one  that'll  do  things  and  not  dream 
over  them.  /  can  do  the  dreaming — done  too  much 
of  it  already." 


70  A   QUEEN  OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  You  need  some  friend  to  protect  you  against  your- 
self ?     Is  that  what  you  mean  ?  " 
"  Yes,  you've  hit  it." 


CHAPTER  VIII 
A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST 

"  YES,  you've  hit  it,"  repeated  Sir  John.  He  had 
turned  his  eyes  from  the  fire  to  Violetta  and  he  allowed 
them  to  rest  upon  her. 

Violetta's  pose  just  then  was  highly  attractive.  She 
was  leaning  slightly  forward,  her  knees  crossed  and  her 
clasped  hands  embracing  the  upper  one.  The  attitude 
suggested  energy,  independence  ;  it  seemed  to  indicate 
that  she  was  mistress  of  herself  ;  that  she  was  not  one 
to  yield  to  momentary  impulses  ;  that  she  was  alert 
and  ready  of  resource  in  cases  of  difficulty.  The  small 
compact  head,  the  full  neck  set  on  firmly  rounded 
shoulders  confirmed  this  view  of  her  character.  Even 
the  shapely  arms  had  character  in  them. 

"  You  have  Ella  to  talk  to,"  said  she. 

"  Bother  Ella.  She's  always  been  the  obstacle. 
We  never  agree  on  a  single  point  and  aren't  likely  to. 
Discussions  with  her  always  take  an  unpleasantly 
personal  tone,  with  any  number  of  "  I  told  you  so's." 
She  can't  understand  the  influence  of  circumstances  on 
character — on  one's  destiny.  Can  you,  Miss  Vaughan 
— I  beg  your  pardon — Violetta  I  should  have  said  ?  " 

"  Yes.  No  one  better.  I've  seen  it  verified  ever  so 
many  times." 

"  Then  when  I  tell  you  I've  been  an  ass  you  won't 
believe  it's  entirely  owing  to  myself  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  shan't.  In  cases  of  extreme  foolishness 
so  much  depends  not  only  on  circumstances  but  on 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  71 

other  people.  You  remember  what  a  French  philosopher 
once  said — 'to  know  all  is  to  forgive  all.' ' 

"  By  the  lord,  it  is  so.  Look  here,  Violetta,  I'm 
wondering  if  I  should  bore  you  very  much  if  I  told  you 
something  about  what  Ella  calls  my  childish  folly  ? 
I  promise  to  boil  the  story  down  to  shreds." 

"  If  it  willl  give  you  any  satisfaction,  by  all  means 
tell  me-  I'll  be  the  most  patient  of  listeners." 

"  Thanks.  The  business  really  began  with  my 
marriage.  I  was  only  a  youngster — just  come  of  age. 
My  father  was  old  and  feeble,  and  he'd  got  a  yearning 
to  see  a  grandson  in  the  world.  He  didn't  want  the 
baronetcy  to  go  to  any  male  relation  outside  the  direct 
line.  He  mentioned  the  girl  he  wished  me  to  many 
— the  daughter  of  an  old  friend.  I've  always  looked 
upon  what  some  people  call  the  serious  steps  in  life 
as  trifles,  and  it  seemed  to  me  it  didn't  matter  who  was 
my  wife  so  long  as  she  was  amiable  and  decent  looking." 

"  You  were  easily  pleased  at  twenty-one.  Have 
you  become  more  fastidious  since  ?  "  asked  Violetta 
meditatively. 

"Can't  say.  Perhaps.  Certainly  I  don't  think  doll 
faces  appeal  to  me.  Poor  Alice  had  a  doll  face.  Round 
blue  eyes,  a  small  mouth,  dimples  when  she  laughed 
and  fair  wavy  hair.  I  suppose  we  were  equally  matched 
as  to  brains.  We  both  made  a  mistake.  We  were 
too  much  alike — in  temperament,  I  mean.  We  ought 
to  have  had  our  opposites.  A  son,  to  my  father's  huge 
delight,  was  born,  and  two  years  after  came  a 
catastrophe.  The  boy  was  drowned." 

"  Great  Heaven.  Why  did  you  tell  me  ?  "  cried 
Violetta,  with  genuine  sympathy.  "  Ella  has.  never 
mentioned  this  terrible  thing." 

"  It  isn't  often  raked  up,"  said  Norman  huskily. 
"  I  wanted  to  forget  it,  but  I  never  have.  I  had  too 
many  other  misfortunes  to  remember  it  by.  My  wife 
was  stricken  down  by  the  news  ;  she  had  a  child  pre- 
maturely — stillborn — she  had  a  fever,  lost  her  reason, 


72  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

and  never  regained  it.  My  father  also  was  so  much 
affected  that  he  died  within  a  year." 

"  What  a  frightful  list  of  troubles.  I  think  you're 
wonderful,  Sir  John,  to  have  maintained  your  cheer- 
fulness. When  I  first  saw  you  I  should  never  have 
suspected  you  kept  so  sad  a  story  locked  up  within  you." 

"  Well,  some  twelve  years  had  passed  over,  and  one 
can't  be  always  wearing  one's  heart  on  one's  sleeve. 
That's  stupid  ;  besides,  it's  not  my  idea  of  bearing 
troubles." 

He  relapsed  into  silence  and  seemed  so  absorbed 
that  Violetta  hardly  liked  to  disturb  his  reverie.  At 
last  she  said  : 

"  I  suppose  you  now  and  again  visited  your  wife. 
That  must  have  been  a  painful  ordeal." 

"  At  first  it  was,  but  I  soon  got  used  to  it,  as  she 
never  recognised  me.  Some  days  she  was  plunged 
in  melancholy.  On  others  she  did  nothing  but  rave. 
Her  wild  talk  revealed  something  I  never  suspected. 
Before  I  proposed  to  her  she  wanted  to  marry  another 
man,  and  it  was  his  name  that  was  always  in  her 
thoughts.  Subsequently,  I  discovered  that  she  really 
had  been  engaged  to  this  man,  and  she  jilted  him  to 
marry  me.  He  thought  I  was  to  blame,  but  I  knew 
nothing  of  her  prior  engagement.  In  fact,  they  kept 
it  a  secret.'.' 

"  Have  you  ever  met  him  ?  " 

"  Yes — since   Lady   Norman   died." 

"  And  are  you  on  speaking  terms  ?" 

Norman  smiled  grimly. 

"  Not  exactly.  I  think  he'd  like  to  cut  my  throat. 
He's  got  it  into  his  head  that  my  wife  went  out  of  her 
mind  through  me.  It's  utterly  false." 

"  You  never  injured  him,  then  ?  " 

"  Robbing  a  man  of  a  girl  he'd  set  his  heart  upon 
would  be  an  injury,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  did  it  unknowingly." 

"  Well,  he  didn't  take  that  view.    But  we  needn't 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  73 

bother  about  him  further  than  to  say  that  I  believe 
he's  at  the  bottom  of  my  ruin,  though  he  was  far  too 
cunning  to  show  himself." 

"  Who  were  the  men  who  were  acting  for  him  ?  " 
asked  Violetta  with  sudden  interest. 

Norman  looked  at  her  slightly  surprised.  He  was 
not  a  man  of  quick  perception,  but  he  could  not  help 
seeing  that  she  did  not  put  the  question  out  of  mere 
curiosity. 

"  Oh,  there  was  a  gang.  There  always  is,  I  believe, 
in  a  racing  swindle,  and  when  they  quarrel  over  the  spoil 
the  truth  oozes  out,  but  the  honest  man — otherwise 
the  victim,  doesn't  necessarily  come  into  his  own. 
I  was  induced  to  buy  some  wretched  platers  and  was 
kidded  into  believing  that  they  were  "  dark  "  horses, 
certain  to  win  and  at  long  odds  I  should  have  netted 
a  fortune.  I  never  won  a  race." 

"  But  didn't  you  know  someone  of  the  gang  outside 
racing  ?  You  wouldn't  have  believed  downright 
strangers,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  and  that's  where  the  sting  comes  in. 
The  man  I  mentioned  some  time  ago — the  billiard 
player — my  own  friend — let  me  down.  I  don't  want 
to  talk  about  him.  I've  wiped  the  blackguard  out 
of  my  life. 

Violetta  dared  not  ask  for  this  man's  name.  There 
was  n/  necessity.  Ella  had  told  her.  She  glanced  at 
Norman's  face.  She  seemed  to  read  in  it  more  determina- 
tion than  she  had  hitherto  credited  him  with  possessing. 
Maybe  his  inertness  and  indecision  had  their  origin 
in  the  fact  that  he  had  always  taken  things  too  easily 
and  had  allowed  others  to  think  for  him.  He  had 
indeed  hinted  at  this  defect  in  his  character.  Maybe 
if  he  were  forced  to  fight  for  himself  he  would  show  he 
could  do  it. 

Then  his  features  relaxed.  The  resolute  look  passed 
away.  He  relapsed  into  his  habitual  dreaminess. 

"  I   wish,    Violetta,    you    hadn't   left    Normanhurst 


74 

four  years  ago.  When  you  were  gone  I  felt  horribly 
restless.  I  %vanted  excitement.  The  country  had  lost 
its  attraction.  I  took  a  furnished  flat  in  London  and 
that's  where  the  trouble  began.  Why  did  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  had  to.     My  father  needed  me." 

"  Your  father  ?  He'd  been  in  the  Army,  hadn't 
he  ?  What  did  he  want  you  for  ?  " 

"  Various  things.  We'd  always  been  a  good  deal 
together!  He  was  accustomed  to  rely  upon  me.  Really, 
we  were  more  like  chums  than  father  and  daughter. 
I  felt  I  couldn't  leave  him  to  shift  for  himself." 

"  And  he's  dead — so  I  understand  from  Ella." 

"  Yes,  he  was  killed  riding  in  a  steeplechase.  It  was 
about  the  last  thing  one  would  have  expected.  He 
was  a  splendid  horseman." 

"  His  death  must  have  made  you  hate  racing  and 
all  that  belongs  to  it.  Wasn't  that  so  ?  " 

Violetta  evaded  the  question. 

"  Has  your  ill  luck  made  you  hate  it  ?  "  said  she. 

"  By  heaven,  I  loathe  it.  I'll  never  again  risk  a 
farthing  on  a  horse,  and  I'll  never  trust  a  woman  who 
does." 

Was  this  meant  as  a  warning  to  her  ?  Why  should 
it  ?  There  could  be  no  significance  in  his  words  beyond 
an  expression  of  his  own  tastes.  He  knew  nothing 
of  her  life — of  her  experience.  She  wondered  if  he 
had  that  knowledge  what  he  would  think  of  her. 

"  You're  rather  hard  upon  women  who  bet,"  said 
she,  quietly. 

"  I've  reason  to  be.     But  we  needn't  go  into  that." 

So  there  was  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble. 
Knowing  the  racing  world  as  she  did,  Violetta  would 
have  been  surprised  if  there  hadn't  been. 

"  Raking  up  the  past  is  stupid  and  profitless.  It's 
the  future  that  matters,  isn't  it  ?  I  should  like  to 
hear  how  you  propose  getting  back  Normanhurst." 

"  I've  told  you  I  don't  know.  I'm  totally  ignorant 
of  soap  making,  motor  manufacturing,  or  anything 


75 

like  that.  It  would  have  been  better  if  I'd  been 
brought  up  to  a  business.  It  would  have  kept  me  out  of 
temptation,  wouldn't  it  ?  "  and  he  laughed  a  little 
bitterly. 

"  You  can  make  money  in  business  without  knowing 
anything  about  the  business  itself.  It  only  wants 
capital  and  brains." 

Violetta's  frankness  did  not  offend  him  in  the  least. 
On  the  contrary  it  amused  him. 

"  Thanks,"  said  he,  smilingly.  "  You've  spotted 
the  two  weak  points." 

"  I  suppose  they  can  be  remedied.  Was  Norman- 
hurst  your  only  landed  property  ?  " 

"  No.  I've  a  ramshackle  place  about  ten  miles  distant 
from  it  that's  never  brought  in  more  than  £50  a  year. 
The  house  is  beastly  ugly  and  the  soil's  so  barren  I 
didn't  think  it  worth  while  to  try  to  mortgage  it.  It's 
called  the  Owl's  Nest  and  there  never  was  a  more  appro- 
priate title." 

"  The  Owl's  Nest !  How  romantic  it  sounds  !  Is 
it  picturesque  ?  " 

"Rather.  That 'sits  only  recommendation.  Between 
ourselves,  I'd  a  fancy  for  taking  up  my  quarters  there 
when  the  crash  came,  but  Ella  shrieked  when  I  suggested 
it.  She  declared  that  the  place  was  haunted,  and  my 
argument  that  spooks  were  in  her  line — perhaps  she 
hasn't  told  you  that  she's  a  bit  gone  on  spiritualism — 
went  for  nothing.  Of  course,  I  gave  in  for  the  sake 
of  peace  and  quietness,  and  so  we  came  to  this  show, 
which  I  never  particularly  cared  for,  and  which  I'm 
now  heartily  sick  of.  But  I  may  like  it  better  now 
you've  come." 

Violetta  took  no  notice  of  the  implied  compliment. 
She  brushed  it  aside  impatiently. 

"  I  want  to  hear  more  about  the  Owl's  Nest.  Do  tell 
me.  Is  it  occupied  ?  " 

"  No,  and  it  hasn't  been  for  over  a  year.  I  doubt 
if  the  house  is  inhabitable." 


76  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it." 

"  Would  you  ?  There's  no  difficulty.  We  could 
motor  there  in  an  hour  and  a  half." 

"  How  jolly.    When  can  we  go  ?     To-morrow  ?  " 

"  All  the  days  are  the  same  to  me.  To-morrow,  if 
you  like." 

"  I  suppose  Ella  wouldn't  go  ?  "  Violetta's  question 
was  not  put  with  much  enthusiasm. 

"  Not  she.  I  don't  see  that  we  want  her.  You're 
not  afraid  of  Mrs.  Grundy,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Isn't  Mrs.  Grundy  out  of  date  these  days  ?" 

"  Well,  yes.  Jazz  dancing,  bare  backs  and  the 
divorce  court  have  been  too  much  for  the  old  lady. 
And  a  good  thing  too,  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"I  won't  commit  myself  to  that  opinion.  It  all 
depends  upon  the  person  and  circumstances." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  bustle  in  the  lobby  outside 
and  Ella  bounced  in. 

"  You  two  look  pretty  cornfy  I  must  say,"  she  ex- 
claimed in  not  a  particularly  pleased  tone.  "  I  thought 
you  came  here  to  play  billiards." 

"  And  so  we  did.  We've  had  two  games.  I  beat 
Violetta  in  one  and  she  beat  me  in  the  other." 

"  How  did  she  manage  that  ?  You  let  her  win,  I 
suppose." 

"  No.  It  was  the  other  way  about.  She  let  me 
win  the  first  game,  and  in  the  second  she  simply  ran 
away  from  me." 

Ella's  face  became  as  unpleasant  as  her  voice. 

"  How  on  earth  did  you  learn  to  play  so  well  ?  I 
almost  feel  inclined  to  quote  the  worn  saying  that  skill 
at  billiards  is  evidence  of  an  ill-spent  youth." 

"  It's  a  question  of  comparison,  my  dear.  It  doesn't 
follow  that  I  play  well  because  I  beat  your  brother." 

"  Of  course  not,"  put  in  Sir  John  with  a  chuckle. 
"  What  does  follow  is  that  I  played  dashed  bad." 

Ella  tossed  her  head.  She  did  not  pursue  the 
subj ect.  She  turned  to  her  brother  in  her  spasmodic  way. 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK  77 

"  You'll  be  glad  to  hear,  John,  that  I've  had  a  most 
successful  morning." 

"  What,  has  the  Vicar  promised  to  lend  his  church 
for  one  of  your  performances  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  stupid.  No.  I  found  a  number  of  most 
interesting  people  at  the  Vicarage.  The  talk  turned 
upon  spiritualism,  and  I  was  amazed  to  find  how  many 
of  the  party  had  taken  up  the  study.  Some  of  them 
have  had  the  most  satisfactory  results." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  satisfactory  ?  " 

"  Why,  they've  had  most  convincing  proof  of  the 
possibility  of  communicating  with  the  other  world." 

"  Really.  What  did  the  Vicar  say  to  that  ?  Poaching 
on  his  preserves,  wasn't  it  ?  I've  always  had  an  idea 
that  the  church  was  supposed  to  look  after  the  other 
world  for  us." 

"  We  didn't  let  him  know  what  we  were  talking  about. 
It  so  happened  that  those  who  were  interested  in  the 
subject  were  sitting  together.  Of  course  we  couldn't 
talk  freely,  as  he  was  present  and  we  didn't  know  how 
he  would  take  it.  I  was  afraid  he  might  reprove  us 
and  in  an  argument  with  a  clergyman  one  always  feels 
at  a  disadvantage — you  can't  contradict  the  man 
without  an  uncomfortable  sensation  that  you're  guilty 
of  blasphemy.  So  we  agreed  to  meet  again  and  compare 
our  experiences." 

"  Hang  it,  Ella,  what  experiences  have  you  had  ?  " 

"  Not  any,  but  I  want  to  have  some.  We've  arranged 
to  hold  a  seance  here  tomorrow  evening.  The  little 
round  table  in  the  spare  room  will  do  splendidly.  Mrs. 
Parry  has  offered  to  bring  a  wonderful  medium — 
a  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe,  who  by  a  great  piece  of 
luck  happens  to  be  staying  here.  We're  bound  to  have 
some  remarkable  manifestations  if  all  that's  said  about 
her  is  true." 

John  Norman  stared  blankly  at  his  sister.  He  was 
biting  his  lips  and  frowning  slightly.  Apparently  he 
did  not  welcome  the  prospect  of  the  avalanche. 


78  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  I've  been  thinking,  John,  that  you  might  do  worse 
than  go  in  for  spiritualism  as  a  hobby.  It  would  take 
you  completely  out  of  yourself." 

"  Thanks.  I'm  quite  contented  with  myself  as  I 
am,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  anybody  else.  So  far  as 
spiritualism  is  concerned,  I  hate  it,  and  you  needn't 
reckon  upon  me  to-morrow  night." 

Norman  spoke  with  unwonted  asperity  and  his 
self-assertion  evidently  took  Ella  by  surprise. 

"  Do  as  you  like,  of  course,  but  it'll  be  very  awkward. 
What  excuse  am  I  to  offer  ?  How  am  I  to  explain 
your  refusal  to  join  us  when  you're  in  the  house  all 
the  time  ?  " 

"  That's  where  you're  wrong.  I  shan't  be  in  the  house. 
I've  promised  to  motor  Violetta  to  the  Owl's  Nest.  I've 
been  telling  her  about  it  and  its  reputation  for  being 
haunted.  She's  most  anxious  to  see  it.  Possibly 
we  shall  have  a  better  chance  there  of  running  across 
a  ghost  than  you'll  have  here." 

"Motor  Violetta  to  the  Owl's  Nest,"  repeated  Ella, 
her  face  suddenly  growing  very  long.  "  It's  absurd. 
You  must  put  off  the  excursion.  Any  other  day  but 
to-morrow  will  do  just  as  well.  Have  you  promised 
to  go,  Violetta  ?  " 

J.'  Yes.     I  was  looking  forward  to  it,  but  as  you  sa)?, 
another  day  will  do  just  as  well." 

"  Indeed  it  won't,"  broke  in  Norman,  half  angrily. 
"  I  hate  putting  things  off — especially  for  the  sake  of 
people  I  don't  know  and  don't  want  to  know.  After 
what  Violetta  has  just  said,  I  shan't  disappoint  her." 

"  But  surely,  Violetta,  under  the  circumstances  you 
wouldn't  think  of  going  ?  "  cried  Ella  petulantly. 

"  If  Sir  John  insists,  I  don't  know  how  I  can  refuse." 

Violetta  from  the  corner  of  her  eye  could  see  a  look 
of  relief  stealing  over  Norman's  face.  It  looked  as  if 
a  contest  of  wills  between  brother  and  sister  was  going 
on,  and  she  determined  to  back  him  up  for  all  she  was 
worth.  From  what  she  had  seen  of  the  Norman  house- 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  79 

hold  she  had  decided  that  it  was  time  John  Norman 
asserted  himself. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  snapped  Ella,  and  she  swept  from 
the  room,  her  features  twitching  and  suggesting  that 
she  was  on  the  verge  of  tears. 


CHAPTER  IX 
VIOLETTA'S  "  JOY-RIDE  " 

THE  evening  passed  in  a  not  particularly  lively  fashion. 
Ella  was  alternately  snappy  and  sulky.  Her  brother 
was  distraught  and  Violetta  felt  bored  to  death.  She 
played  and  sang  out  of  sheer  desperation,  and  did  not 
much  care  whether  or  not  she  was  entertaining  her 
friends.  Her  hostess  professed  a  slight  indisposition 
and  could  not  be  persuaded  into  doing  anything. 
Evidently  she  did  not  look  upon  the  proposed  trip  to 
the  Owl's  Nest  with  approval.  Violetta  was  quite  glad 
when  the  time  came  to  say  good-night.  Before  going 
to  bed,  she  sat  for  some  time  in  a  comfortable,  padded 
wicker  chair,  nursing  her  knee — her  favourite  attitude 
when  she  wanted  to  think  over  things.  On  the  whole, 
she  was  more  interested  in  Sir  John  Norman  than  she 
had  expected.  She  no  longer  had  any  idea  of  captivating 
him.  That  notion,  if  she  had  ever  meant  it  seriously, 
had  passed  away,  but  it  was  not  from  any  mercenary 
motive.  She  wanted  money,  it  was  true,  but  she  was 
not  anxious  to  get  it  by  marrying  a  rich  man.  It  might 
mean  a  sacrifice  of  her  independence  and  she  valued 
her  freedom  more  than  anything  in  life.  The  discovery, 
therefore,  that  the  baronet  was  ruined  did  not  come 
as  the  disappointment  which  she  would  have  felt  had 
she  fixed  upon  him  as  her  husband. 
At  the  same  time,  he  did  interest  her.  She  was  not 


8o  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

clear  why  it  was  so.  She  was  inclined  to  put  it  down 
to  her  innate  antagonism  towards  Ella.  Outwardly 
Ella  had  always  been  very  friendly  with  her,  but  the 
two  had  never  come  into  conflict  over  any  vital  matter. 
Violetta  was  not  one  to  take  any  account  of  trifling 
differences  of  opinion,  and  she  had  always  given  way. 

Somehow  she  now  felt  inclined  for  active  hostilities 
It  angered  her  to  see  Ella  domineering  over  her  brother, 
and  it  angered  her  still  more  to  find  the  man  tamely 
submitting. 

"  It's  no  business  of  mine,  anyway,"  she  told  herself. 
"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  stay  some  little  time  as 
I've  sent  for  my  things  and  it  would  be  stupid  to  quarrel 
with  Ella  just  because  her  brother  hasn't  pluck  enough 
to  stand  up  for  himself." 

She  smiled.  It  had  occurred  to  her  that  a  little  drama 
was  beginning  in  the  unexpected  determination  of 
Sir  John  to  have  his  own  way,  and  that  this  determina- 
tion was  primarily  due  to  herself.  But  mightn't  there 
be  some  other  motive  at  work  ?  Why  was  Norman  so 
set  against  a  spiritualistic  seance  ?  She,  Violetta, 
would  rather  have  liked  it.  "  Cranks "  of  any  sort 
were  entertaining  once  in  a  way.  She  did  not  think 
that  the  baronet  was  afraid  of  "  cranks"  or  had  any 
particular  objection  to  a  seance  per  se.  His  manner 
suggested  some  personal  dislike. 

"  Perhaps  there  may  be  more  fun  here  than  I  imagined 
at  first  "  was  her  final  comment,  and  with  hope  in  her 
mind  she  went  peacefully  to  sleep. 

It  was  clear  the  next  morning  that  Ella  had  not  re- 
covered her  good  temper.  She  did  not  appear  at  the 
breakfast  table  and  sent  down  word  that  she  had  a  bad 
headache.  Sir  John,  on  the  other  hand,  had  risen 
early.  He  was  anxious,  he  explained,  not  to  be  dis- 
appointed about  the  car,  and  had  gone  to  the  garage 
before  breakfast. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  he.  "  Shall  we  start  about 
eleven  ?  Will  that  suit  you  ?  " 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  81 

"  Admirably.  I  shall  enjoy  the  ride  immensely, 
I'm  sure.  It's  a  delightful  morning,  and  promises 
to  be  an  ideal  spring  day.  I'm  sorry,  though,  I  haven't 
any  proper  motor  costume.  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  /  don't  mind.  Why  should  I  ?  It's  you  who 
ought  to  worry.  But  you  don't  seem  much  troubled." 

Violetta,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was  in  great  good  humour 
and  was  looking  her  best.  She  had  had  misgivings 
that  Norman's  courage  might  have  oozed  out  during 
the  night,  and  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  it  hadn't.  In 
addition,  her  belongings  had  arrived  from  the  hotel 
in  London,  and  this  was  a  special  source  of  satisfaction. 
No  woman  likes  to  depend  upon  a  single  dress  no  matter 
how  well  she  may  look  in  it. 

"  Troubled  ?  No  indeed.  I'm  never  troubled  when 
I'm  expecting  a  pleasure." 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  one.  Anyway,  I  shall  have  nothing 
to  prevent  me  devoting  myself  entirely  to  you.  I'm 
an  awful  ass  where  motoring  is  concerned,  so  we  shall 
have  a  chauffeur  to  take  the  responsibility.  I  know 
it's  not  the  right  thing.  Almost  as  bad  as  a  boating 
man  having  someone  to  row  for  him." 

"  Luckily,  I'm  neither  a  motorist  or  a  boating 
woman,  so  it  doesn't  matter,  does  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  does.  Still,  it  won't  be  what's 
called  a  joy  ride." 

"  And  what's  that  ?  "  asked  Violetta,  as  demure  as 
the  lady  depicted  in  Milton's  "  Penseroso." 

He  laughed. 

"  It  must  be  experienced,  I  believe.  It  can't  be 
described.  Part  of  the  enjoyment,  I  understand,  consists 
in  getting  every  ounce  of  speed  out  of  the  car  and 
defying  the  regulations." 

"  I  shouldn't  at  all  mind  that — on  a  horse." 

He  became  a  little  graver. 

"  I  suppose  not.  I  remember  your  splendid  riding 
at  Normanhurst.  I've  given  up  thinking  about  horses." 

"  Not  for  ever,  surely  ?  " 


82  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  If  I  keep  in  my  present  mind  it  may  be  so,  but  we 
won't  talk  about  horses,  please." 

"  You  ought  to  have  gone  in  for  training  in  motoring, 
then  you'd  have  a  topic  you'd  have  plenty  to  say  about. 
I'm  told  motor  talk's  most  engrossing." 

"  I  know — I  know.  I've  run  across  motor  maniacs. 
They  open  their  mouths  over  nothing  else.  It's  all 
gibberish  to  me.  Don't  worry.  Where  you  are  Violetta 
there'll  be  no  lack  of  a  subject  for  conversation." 

"  Thanks.  I  didn't  know  I  could  let  my  tongue 
run  away  with  me." 

"  I  don't  mean  that." 

He  shot  her  a  glance,  the  meaning  of  which  Violetta 
understood  quite  well,  and  she  left  it  at  that. 

"  Will  you  give  me  half  an  hour,  please,  to  get  ready  ?  " 
said  she. 

"  Take  your  time,  but  don't  be  longer  than  you  can 
help.  Between  ourselves,  I'd  like  to  get  away  before 
Ella  shows  up.  I  upset  her  last  night,  and  she's  horrid 
when  she's  put  out.  I  hate  to  start  the  day  with  a  row, 
don't  you  ?  " 

Violetta  nodded  and  tripped  away.  She  joined  him 
within  the  half  hour.  He  was  pacing  the  room  rest- 
lessly, a  cigarette  between  his  lips.  She  thought  he 
looked  worried,  but  she  made  no  remark.  He  brightened 
when  his  eyes  lighted  upon  her,  as  well  they  might,  for 
she  presented  an  engaging  picture  with  her  tailor  made 
skirt,  blouse,  up  and  down  collar,  and  scarf,  the  pin 
of  which  added  a  provoking  touch  of  coquetry.  The 
masculine  suggestions  of  her  costume  suited  her 
amazingly.  Her  hat  was  a  little  sailor  straw,  with  a 
feather  artfully  disposed. 

"  By  Jove,  one  would  think  you  were  about  to  mount 
a  horse  rather  than  a  motor,"  he  could  not  help  saying. 

"  I  thought  you  didn't  want  horses  mentioned." 

"  Perhaps  I  didn't  explain  myself.  I  meant  horse 
racing.  Anyhow,  let's  be  off.' 

As  the  car  started  Violetta  glanced  at  one  of  the 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  83 

upper  windows.  She  saw  the  blind  shift  slightly,  and 
she  laughed.  Ella  was  on  the  watch.  Violetta  had 
in  a  way  thrown  down  the  gauntlet. 

Soon  they  were  bowling  along  the  high  road.  Pres- 
ently the  car  turned  into  a  lane  and  the  chauffeur 
slackened  speed. 

"  It's  a  cross-country  run  to  Weltersfield,  sir.  I 
suppose  you'd  like  me  to  take  the  shortest  cut  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

He  had  turned  to  Violetta. 

"  There's  no  hurry,  I  suppose,"  said  she.  "  I  should 
like  to  see  as  much  as  I  can  of  English  scenery.  I've 
been  away  for  a  long  time  you  know,  and  there's  nothing 
on  the  Continent  like  the  fresh  green  of  our  country. 
I  missed  the  English  hedgerows  terribly." 

"  Very  well,  then,  we'll  go  by  the  prettiest  route 
and  chance  it  being  the  longest.  It's  between  thirty 
and  forty  miles,  I  suppose,  to  Weltersfield,  eh  ?  " 

"  Quite  that,  sir." 

"  Nothing  for  a  motor  ride,  so  we'll  go  leisurely. 
No  "  scorching  "  mind." 

The  chauffeur's  wooden  face  never  moved.  Going 
leisurely  was  not  his  idea  of  motoring.  His  difficulty 
would  be  keeping  within  his  instructions. 

"  Whereabouts  is  Weltersfield  ?  "  asked  Violetta. 

"  On  the  borders  of  Surrey,  ten  miles  from  Norman- 
hurst.  As  I  told  you,  I  should  have  gone  there  but 
for  Ella.  Plenty  of  rabbit  shooting  but  not  much  good 
for  anything  else.  If  you're  fond  of  the  picturesque 
you'll  get  it  there.  An  artist  friend  I  showed  it  to 
raved  over  the  views." 

"  Well,  that's  something,  anyhow.  You  don't 
sketch,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No.  I'm  fond  of  pictures  and  all  that,  but  nothing 
more.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Violetta,  I  don't  believe 
I'm  good  at  anything — excepting,"  he  added  with  a 
queer  sort  of  laugh,  "  at  being  fooled." 

"Oh,  we're  most  of  us  touched  a  bit  that  way  at 


84  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

times,  I  fancy.  We  can't  always  be  wise.  It  would 
be  an  awfully  dull  world  if  it  weren't  for  the  fools. 
They  contribute  largely  to  the  gaiety  of  nations." 

"  That's  your  idea,  is  it  ?  Then  you  don't  think 
I'm  an  absolute  ass  because  I  allowed  myself  to  be 
taken  in  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should.  I  told  you  so  last  night. 
It's  generally  the  people  we  trust  we  have  to  thank 
for  our  misfortunes,  where  money's  concerned." 

"  Well,  yes.  The  odd  thing  was  I  discovered  that 
what  I  thought  I  knew  most  about  I  knew  least.  Horses 
were  always  my  hobby  until  I  went  in  for  keeping  racers, 
but  even  then  if  I  hadn't  been  let  down  by  the  man 
I  tnisted  I  mightn't  have  been  so  smashed  up.  You 
see,  he  induced  me  to  buy  a  lot  of  crocks  which  turned  . 
out  frauds.  But  this  wasn't  the  worst.  The  best  horse 
I  bought  was  on  my  own  judgment.  I  backed  it  for 
all  I  was  worth  to  win  the  Derby,  and  I'll  swear  it 
would,  too,  but  at  the  last  moment  it  was  got  at  or 
the  jockey  was.  Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  can  guess." 

"  And  that's  how  I  came  to  grief.  Then — hang  it, 
Violetta,  I  entreated  you  not  to  talk  about  horse  racing, 
and  here  I  am  prancing  about  on  forbidden  ground  ! 
I've  said  enough.  Tell  me  something  about  yourself 
just  to  change  one's  thoughts.  What  did  you  do  in 
Paris  ?  " 

Violetta  had  no  difficulty  in  reeling  off  actual  and 
imaginary  experiences,  but  not  a  word  did  she  breathe 
about  racing  or  gambling. 

She  saw  plainly  enough  that  Norman  in  his  present 
mood  detested  both.  No  doubt  it  was  a  case  either  of 
a  burnt  child  dreading  the  fire  or  of  the  old  adage  of  the 
devil^being  sick,  etc.  ;  and  maybe  if  Norman  was  again 
in  possession  of  money  his  interest  in  horses  might  revive, 
but  this  point  just  now  Violetta  was  not  called  upon  to 
decide.  She  wanted  to  amuse  him  and  she  succeeded. 
Gradually  the  nervousness  and  occasional  fits  of 


A    QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  85 

absorption  which  Violetta  had  noticed  disappeared,  and 
he  chatted  as  in  the  old  days  at  Normanhurst. 

They  lunched  at  Cobham  and  sat  talking  for  some  time 
afterwards.  The  spectre  of  Ella  not  hanging  over  the 
feast,  Violetta  had  no  scruple  in  indulging  in  cigarettes. 
Norman  complimented  her  on  her  smoking." 

"  You  smoke  like  a  mari — you  don't  hurry.  The 
idea  of  most  women  is  that  a  cigarette  should  be  burnt 
away  as  quickly  as  possible." 

"  Yes,  I've  noticed  it  is  so.  Perhaps  that's  why 
I  don't  do  it.  I  don't  always  follow  the  example  of 
other  women." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  he,  in  what  sounded  almost 
like  a  tone  of  relief. 

"Why?" 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  As  one  goes  through  life 
one  learns  things,  that's  all." 

Had  Violetta  cared  to  avail  herself  of  the  opening, 
she  could  have  teased  him  as  to  his  views  of  women,  but 
she  remembered  the  tragedy  of  his  married  life,  and 
she  let  him  alone. 

They  strolled  about  Cobham  and  did  not  resume  the 
journey  for  some  time.  It  was  but  a  ten  mile  ride  to 
Weltersfield,  and  had  they  gone  by  the  nearest  road 
they  would  have  passed  Normanhurst.  But  Norman 
could  not  face  the  sight  of  the  old  house,  and  directed 
the  chauffeur  down  a  series  of  lanes  by  which  the  estate 
was  avoided.  The  car  finally  emerged  upon  a  fine 
breezy  common  on  the  other  side  of  which  was  a  road 
which  led  past  a  small  estate  bordered  by  an  oak  fence 
wire  barbed  at  the  top.  On  the  other  side  of  the  fence 
was  a  broad  stretch  of  meadow  land,  and  beyond, 
sheltered  by  pine  trees,  was  a  squat  house,  a  plain, 
square,  uncompromising  sort  of  building — dull  brick 
with  a  door  in  the  centre  and  a  window  each  side,  and 
three  windows  above.  At  the  side  was  an  extensive 
range  of  outbuildings. 

Some  horses  were  grazing  in  the  meadow,  and  between 


86  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

them  and  the  house  stood  a  short  thick-set  man  with 
slightly  bowed  legs  and  somewhat  stooping  in  the 
shoulders.  A  companion  to  whom  he  was  talking  was 
slim,  undersized,  and  with  the  unmistakable  look  of 
a  jockey  about  him. 

Violetta  took  in  the  shape  and  build  of  the  horses, 
their  shining,  sleek,  well-groomed  coats  and  their  springy 
walk,  with  the  delight  of  a  connoisseur.  She  noted 
the  men  and  their  surroundings,  and  she  knew  perfectly 
well  she  was  passing  a  trainer's  headquarters.  But 
mindful  of  Norman's  injunction,  she  did  not  say  a 
word. 

Suddenly  the  motor  engine  gave  one  of  those  irritating 
alarming  explosions  to  which  the  mechanism  is  liable. 
The  full-blooded  horses,  startled  by  the  sound,  set  off 
on  a  stampede.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  but  not  to  the 
trainer  or  his  companion.  They  both  shouted  and 
set  off  to  head  the  frightened  steeds.  Fortunately, 
no  harm  was  done  as  they  had  raced  in  the  direction 
of  a  high  hedge,  against  which  one  was  cannoned  by 
the  rest,  but  suffered  no  hurt.  It  might  have  been 
otherwise  had  they  rushed  for  the  fence.  Doubtless 
the  men  expressed  their  feelings  vigorously,  but  they 
were  too  far  away  for  their  words  to  be  heard. 

"  Confound  it,"  she  heard  Norman  mutter.  "  What 
the  mischief  made  the  thing  explode  just  here.  If  any 
of  those  gees  had  come  to  grief  I'd  have  had  to  make  it 
up  to  old  Peter  Gumley,  though  I  suppose  legally  he'd 
have  no  claim  against  me  or  the  chauffeur  either." 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  "  asked  Violetta. 

"  Know  Peter  Gumley  ?  I  should  think  I  did.  The 
most  honest  trainer  who  ever  handled  horseflesh. 
Doesn't  bet.  Imagine  that.  But  I  forgot  you  know 
nothing  about  trainers  or  betting." 

"  They're  lovely  horses,  and  I'm  glad  none  of  them 
were  hurt." 

"  So  am  I.  Peter  Gumley  and  I  were  once  great 
pals,  and  I  was  an  ass  to  fall  out  with  him.  It  was  a 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  87 

misunderstanding,  engineered,  as  I've  reason  to  know, 
by  enemies  of  both  of  us." 

Norman  said  no  more,  and  Violetta  asked  him  no 
questions,  but  she  treasured  up  the  name  of  Peter 
Gumley. 

The  trainer's  quarters  were  left  behind,  and  about 
a  mile  further  on  the  aspect  of  the  country  began  to 
change.  The  road  ascended,  skirting  a  typical  Surrey 
common  covered  with  gorse  and  bracken,  interspersed 
with  thickets  of  bramble  and  holly.  Ahead  to  the 
right  were  rolling  downs  and  to  the  left  woods  with 
here  and  there  clumps  of  tall  pines.  The  ground  was 
broken,  the  road  still  ascending  was  as  full  of  turns 
as  a  snake,  and  the  loose  sharp-edged  stones  showed 
that  there  was  little  or  no  traffic.  The  car  was  traversing 
what  was  practically  a  spur  of  the  long  range  of  chalk 
hills,  of  which  at  Guildford  the  Hog's  Back  was  a  portion. 

"  I  don't  much  like  this  travelling,  sir,"  said  the 
chauffeur,  jerking  round  his  head.  "  It'll  be  a  miracle 
if  we  get  through  without  a  puncture.  Is  the  place 
far  ?  " 

"  About  half  a  mile.     Go  slowly." 

"  Slow  or  fast  won't  make  a  razor-edged  pebble  any 
better,"  grumbled  the  chauffeur.  "  The  road's  worse 
the  farther  one  goes." 

"  Shall  we  get  out  and  walk  ?  " 

"  It  'ud  be  as  well  I  do  think,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Violetta  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  it.     I'm  feeling  rather  cramped." 

"  Are  you  ?  Sorry.  I  don't  mind  confessing  I'm 
a  bit  that  way  myself.  Here  goes." 

He  opened  the  door  sprang  to  the  ground  and  assisted 
Violetta  to  alight. 

"  Wait  here,"  said  he  to  the  chauffeur.  "  We  may 
be  some  time.  Here's  a  cigar  to  while  away  the  time." 

The  chauffeur  took  the  corona  gratefully,  and  put 
down  Sir  John  in  his  mind  as  a  real  gentleman." 

"  Some  toffs  would  ha'   kicked   up  a  shindy,"   he 


88  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

remarked  to  himself.  "  He's  got  a  proper  sort  o'  girl 
with  him  too.  She  knows  how  to  walk  It's  a  treat 
to  see  a  pair  o'  ankles  just  the  right  shape,  and  shoes  as 
don't  have  egg  boilers  for  heels.  Neat  figure,  dashed 
if  she  aint." 

And  the  better  to  enjoy  the  pleasing  picture,  the 
chauffeur  sat  down  on  a  grassy  bank  commanding  a 
view  of  the  winding  road  and  watched  the  couple  toiling 
up  the  ascent. 

"  You  see  now  why  I've  so  much  difficulty  in  letting 
the  Owl's  Nest.  It's  such  a  climb  to  get  there.  Cartage 
is  a  frightful  bother.  Shops  are  miles  away,  and  the 
butcher  and  baker  often  forget  to  call  or  are  too  lazy 
to  fag  up  the  hill." 

"  That's  true.  One  would  have  to  turn  vegetarian 
to  avoid  starvation.  I  suppose  there's  accommodation 
for  a  cow  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  and  a  jolly  fine  paddock  for  pasture. 
It's  the  only  piece  of  level  ground  there  is." 

"  Why  don't  you  sell  the  place  ?  " 

"  Who'd  buy  it  ?  Might  make  a  poultry  farm, 
perhaps.  Maybe  you  wonder  why  a  house  was  stuck 
here.  I'll  tell  you.  It  came  about  when  there  was 
such  a  scare  about  Bonaparte  invading  England  more 
than  a  century  ago.  Some  genius  suggested  that 
a  number  of  tower  houses  should  be  built  on  hills  between 
London  and  Portsmouth,  where  a  sort  of  telegraphing 
could  be  carried  on  by  semaphore  signalling  in  the 
daytime,  and  blazing  fires  at  night.  Boney  never  came 
and  the  telegraph  houses  were  useless  ever  after." 

"  So  the  house  has  a  history ;  that  makes  it 
interesting." 

"  I  suppose  it  does.  Anyhow,  something  in  it  must 
have  interested  my  father  or  he  wouldn't  have  bought 
it.  He  used  to  come  here  for  rabbit  shooting.  He  was 
a  bit  of  a  recluse  and  liked  his  own  company  better 
than  anybody  else's.  I  often  wonder  whether  I  take 
after  him." 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  89 

"  I  hope  you  don't  find  me  boring  you,"  said  Violetta, 
in  a  mock  reproachful  tone. 

"  My  dear  Violetta,"  began  Norman,  but  went  no 
further. 

They  had  reached  the  ground  surrounding  the  house. 
It  was  approached  by  a  narrow  winding  road  and  hedged 
and  fenced  around.  The  foliage  of  a  little  wood  could 
be  seen  beyond.  Norman  had  brought  the  keys  and 
he  unlocked  the  gate. 

"  This  is  the  paddock  I  told  you  of.  It's  not  very 
wide,  as  you  see,  but  I'm  told  its  half  a  mile  round  and 
fairly  level.  It  wouldn't  make  a  bad  circus." 

"  You're  getting  near  the  forbidden  topic,"  laughed 
Violetta.  "  I  warn  you." 

"  Thanks.  I'll  not  forget.  The  house  didn't  exhaust 
the  brains  of  the  architect  who  designed  it — what  do 
you  think  ?  " 

"  It's  solid  enough,  and  I  imagine  it  was  built  to  last." 

The  Owl's  Nest  was  simply  a  square  brick  building 
of  two  storeys.  Nothing  could  be  simpler.  Between 
the  house  and  the  paddock  was  a  flower  garden  of  an 
irregular  shape  on  slightly  higher  ground  than  the 
paddock  ;  the  house  dominated  everything. 

"  To  last  ?  I  should  think  it  was.  I  believe  the 
foundations  are  very  solid." 

They  entered  the  house.  There  were  two  rooms  on  a 
floor,  and  in  each  room  was  some  plain  old  fashioned 
furniture. 

"  Mostly  Queen  Anne  stuff.  A  dealer  offered  me 
£250  for  the  lot,  which  I  guess  meant  it  was  worth 
three  or  four  times  that  amount.  I  wasn't  in  want  of 
money  then  and  I  refused  to  sell.  Most  of  it  came  from 
Normanhurst.  If  ever  I'm  stranded  I  suppose  it'll 
have  to  go." 

Violetta  was  delighted  with  the  place.  Its  entire 
absence  of  ornamentation  did  not  repel  her.  The 
furniture  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  severity  of  the 
surroundings.  They  ascended  to  the  roof  which  was 


go        A  QUEEN  OF  THE  PADDOCK 

approached  through  a  big  trap  door  by  a  broad  step 
ladder  from  one  of  the  rooms.  The  roof  was  raised 
slightly  in  the  centre  to  allow  the  rain  to  drain  into  a 
broad  gutter  on  one  side.  Thence  it  descended  to  a  tank 
on  the  ground. 

"  That's  for  soft  water — useful  you  know  for  the 
garden  or  the  laundry,"  said  Norman.  "  The  views 
are  splendid.  My  dad  liked  to  smoke  his  pipe  here. 
You  can  see  into  four  counties,  I  believe." 

A  wall  some  three  feet  high  surrounded  the  roof  and 
against  a  stack  of  chimneys  was  a  brazier  used  at  night 
in  former  days  for  signalling  purposes.  The  air  was 
delightfully  fresh  and  the  sweet  fragrant  smell  of  the 
pine  woods  distinctly  perceptible.  Violetta  inhaled 
it  with  pleasure.  Her  eyes  wandered  over  the  landscape 
taking  in  its  varied  beauties  and  its  lights  and  shadows. 

After  a  time  they  descended  and  inspected  the  out- 
houses built  for  the  rearing  of  poultry  and  other  live 
stock.  Everything  was  in  a  fair  state  of  repair." 

"  Shall  we  have  a  look  at  the  wood  ?  " 

Violetta  assented,  and  they  crossed  the  paddock, 
and  passed  through  a  little  wicket  gate. 

The  wood  was  on  the  slope  of  the  hill  and  the  ir- 
regularity of  the  ground  added  to  its  picturesqueness. 
The  footpaths  were  innumerable,  but  the  undergrowth 
was  so  dense  that  many  of  them  could  only  be  followed 
with  difficulty. 

All  at  once  an  opening  showed  itself.  A  precipitous 
path,  practically  a  series  of  steps,  led  down  to  a  pond 
upon  which  the  sun  was  pouring  its  full  brilliance. 
It  was  like  coming  upon  a  dazzling  mirror.  The  banks 
in  some  places  were  steep  and  at  others  only  of  gentle 
descent.  All  were  covered  with  vegetation  at  present 
showing  only  the  tender  green  of  spring,  and  promising 
summer  luxuriance.  Lichen  covered  roots  had  here 
and  there  forced  themselves  through  the  loose  soil  and 
by  colour  and  shape  added  their  charm.  At  one  end 
a  thin  stream  trickled  down  huge  chalk  boulders  and 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  gi 

kept  a  sufficient  movement  to  prevent  the  formation 
of  duckweed  save  in  obstructed  patches  where  a  fallen 
tree  trunk  had  held  up  the  current.  At  the  end  opposite 
the  miniature  waterfall  was  an  outlet  and  from  here 
the  water  had  made  for  itself  a  passage  and  after 
many  twistings  found  its  way  to  a  ditch. 

"  How  exquisite !  "  cried  Violetta,  clasping  her 
hands.  "  Why,  it's  like  fairyland.  One  can  imagine 
Oberon  and  Titania  holding  their  revels  here  in  the 
moonlight." 

"  I  told  you  that  artists  went  mad  over  it.  But  it 
has  practical  qualities  as  well  as  poetic  ones.  It's  a 
rare  place  for  carp  and  tench." 

"  And  you  wanted  me  to  believe  that  the  Owl's  Nest 
was  a  kind  of  Starvation  Hall.  What  with  growing 
one's  own  vegetables  and  what  with  fish,  rabbits,  and 
poultry,  there's  not  much  fear  of  going  short.  I  noticed 
a  fine  brick  oven  in  the  scullery.  What's  to  prevent 
baking  one's  daily  bread  ? 

"  Nothing  whatever.  It  is,  I  admit,  an  ideal  Tolstoi 
residence.  It  means  a  lot  of  work,  though." 

"  What  of  that  ?  I'm  in  love  with  the  place.  Do 
you  want  to  let  it  ?  " 

"  I've  no  objection   but  who'd  take  it  ?  " 

"  I  would.     What's  the  rent  ?  " 

Norman  stared.  He  was  flabbergasted  at  the  idea 
He  looked  upon  Violetta's  proposal  as  the  outcome  of  a 
woman's  romance.  He  said  as  much. 

"  It's  not  romance  at  all.  I  assure  you  I  mean 
business,  and  I'm  quite  prepared  to  tackle  the  hard 
work." 

"  You'd  better  think  over  it." 

"  I  have  thought  over  it,  and  I've  made  up  my  mind. 
You  really  must  take  a  common-sense  view  of  your 
affairs,  Sir  John,  and  not  let  them  drift  anyhow." 

Violetta  had  straightened  herself.  Her  tone  was 
emphatic.  Her  eyes  shone  with  a  steady  light.  Her 
face,  though  animated,  was  firm.  She  looked  more 


92  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

masculine  than  ever.  Norman  was  taken  aback. 
He  recognised  her  energy  but  he  was  incredulous  as 
to  her  capacity  for  such  a  crazy  enterprise. 

"  You  don't  realise  the  difficulties,"  he  objected. 
"  What's  put  this  Robinson  Crusoe  idea  into  your  head  ? 
Do  you  want  the  place  as  a  haven  of  rest  and  pleasure  in 
the  summer  time — the  delusion  of  the  simple  life  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  mean  business.  Poultry  farming. 
I'm  out  to  make  money.  Come,  the  rent  please.  What 
did  the  former  tenant  pay  ?  " 

Norman  felt  himself  cornered  by  her  directness. 

"  I  don't  exactly  remember,"  said  he,  reluctantly. 
"  £50,  I  think  it  was." 

"  Dirt  cheap,  I  call  it.  If  £50  will  content  you  I'll 
take  it  at  that." 

"  But  really — the  winter  time — you'll  be  horribly 
lonely." 

"  I  shall  have  a  capable  woman  or  two  about  me,  and  a 
man  to  do  the  rough  work." 

"  But  you  can't  make  friends  of  them." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  can  easily  invite  friends  to 
stay  with  me,  I  suppose." 

"  No  doubt.    Ella  might,  perhaps — " 

"  Ella  won't.  I  don't  think  she'll  approve  of  my 
being  your  tenant." 

"  Maybe  not,"  rejoined  Norman  doubtfully.  "  I 
doubt  if  I  shall  tell  her." 

"  Do  as  you  like  about  that.  7  don't  care  so  long 
as  she  does'nt  talk  you  into  giving  me  notice  to  quit." 

"  She  won't  do  that,  I  promise  you,  but  I  daresay 
she'll  nag  me  a  bit." 

"  Will  you  stand  it  ?  I  suppose  a  man  can't  get 
away  from  a  nagging  wife,  but  a  nagging  sister — well !  " 

Violetta  finished  the  sentence  with  an  expressive 
shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

Norman  looked  a  little  shamefaced.  He  remembered 
how  long  he  had  endured  Ella's  tyranny  and  in  the 
face  of  Violetta's  rebuke  he  began  to  wonder  why. 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE    PADDOCK  93 

But  at  Normanhurst  he  had  to.  How  could  he  leave  the 
place  and  how  could  he  turn  his  sister  out  ?  Both 
courses  were  impossible.  He  had  always  given  in  to 
her  to  avoid  quarrelling.  Yet  he  had  escaped  from 
her  domination — for  a  time.  That  was  when  he  took 
the  bold  step — for  him — of  running  a  flat  in  London. 

"  I  shan't  tell  her,"  said  he  presently.  "  This  is  a 
compact  between  ourselves  Violetta,  and  it  has  nothing 
to  do  with  anyone  else." 

"  Then  you  agree  ?  Thanks  awfully.  I  suppose 
we  shall  have  an  agreement  or  lease,  or  whatever  you 
like  to  call  it,  drawn  up,  shan't  we  ?  But  your  lawyer 
will  see  to  that.  You're  not  going  back  from  your 
word  ?  " 

"No.     I  swear — " 

"  You  needn't.     Your  promise  will  be  sufficient." 

"  You  don't  bar  me  from  coming  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  A  landlord  has  a  right,  I  fancy,  to  enter  his  premises 
at  a  reasonable  time  and  for  a  sufficient  reason.  I 
daresay  you'll  want  to  satisfy  yourself  that  I've  kept 
the  place  in  proper  repair." 

"  I  don't  care  a  fig  about  that.  I  can't  see  myself  as 
your  landlord,  Violetta." 

"  I  shan't  forget  it,  and  I'll  not  fail  to  remind  you 
every  quarter  day.  Now  please  let  us  go  back  to  the 
house.  I  want  to  begin  planning  at  once.  You  won't 
mind  I  hope  my  making  a  few  alterations." 

"  Make  any  that  pleases  you.  Pull  the  house  down 
if  you  care  to  do  it." 

"  Nothing  so  stupid.  I  may  be  silly  at  times,  but 
not  so  silly  as  all  that.'* 

They  returned  to  the  house.  Violetta  was  full  of 
ideas.  The  prospect  of  a  speculative  enterprise  had 
given  her  new  life,  and  she  rattled  on,  to  the  surprise 
and  entertainment  of  her  companion.  Suddenly  she 
looked  at  her  watch. 

"  Mercy  on  us.  Do  you  know  we've  been  here  nearly 
three  hours  ?  What  will  have  become  of  your  car  ?  " 


94  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  It  should  be  where  we  left  it.  Perhaps  we'd  better 
get  back." 

They  found  the  chauffeur  fast  asleep  and  he  looked 
rather  foolish  when  he  was  roused. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  he  stammered.  "  I  didn't  know 
how  long  you'd  be.  But  a  car  ain't  a  horse — it  can't 
bolt." 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right.  Look  here,  take  us  on  to  Guild- 
ford.  We  want  to  see  the  country  as  we  go.  No 
making  up  for  lost  time,  or  anything  of  that  sort." 

"  Right  you  are,  sir,"  rejoined  the  man,  with  a  sly 
look  at  Violetta,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You're  the  cause 
of  this  slow  going." 

They  did  not  arrive  at  Guildford  until  five.  They 
put  up  at  the  Angel.  Violetta  had  a  cup  of  tea,  and 
Norman  ordered  dinner  for  half  past  six.  Meanwhile, 
they  strolled  about  the  interesting  old  town.  They 
were  the  best  of  friends  and,  as  Norman  thought,  in  a 
fair  way  of  becoming  chums. 

Most  of  Norman's  lady  friends  at  Normanhurst  were 
of  the  conventional  type.  Those  at  Thames-side, 
when  they  were  not  conventional  were  slightly  vulgar 
and  decidedly  commonplace.  They  seemed  to  exude 
wealth  in  their  display  of  jewellery,  and  were  of  the  sort 
who  in  London  appear  to  live  at  restaurants.  Dinners 
and  lunches  were  to  them  the  most  important  functions 
of  the  day,  and  auction  bridge  at  night.  Violetta 
on  the  other  hand  was  wholly  unconventional.  She 
had  moved  about  in  the  world  and  had  been  observant 
of  things,  and  had  her  own  opinion  on  them.  Never 
had  Norman  passed  a  more  enjoyable  day.  Violetta 
had  completely  chased  away  his  gloom  of  the  morning. 

But  as  night  approached  he  became  a  little  fidgety. 
He  invented  all  manner  of  excuses  for  delay,  and  Violetta 
acquiesced.  A  motor  ride  by  moonlight  promised 
enjoyment  and  novelty.  It  was  a  goodish  stretch 
from  Guildford  to  Thames-side,  and  as  the  chauffeur 
had  to  stop  several  times — generally  at  hostelries,  to 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  95 

enquire  the  way — the  car  did  not  arrive  at  the  Willows 
until  half  past  ten. 

The  house  was  lighted  up,  and  the  sounds  of  a  piano 
and  singing  were  heard. 

"  Beastly  nuisance,"  exclaimed  Norman  in  a  tone 
of  vexation.  "  I'd  hoped  the  spiritualistic  tomfoolry 
was  over.  Ella  seerns  to  have  turned  it  into  a  sing  song. 

"  Does  it  matter  ?  "  asked  Violetta. 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  does.  Still — well,  we  must 
go  through  it,  I  suppose.  But  I  hate  the  Thames- 
side  people." 

He  spoke  in  a  kind  of  desperation  and  seemed  to 
regard  the  gathering  much  more  seriously  than  it 
warranted.  So  at  least  Violetta  thought.  But  was 
there  any  other  reason  ? 


CHAPTER  X 

MRS.    WlLLOUGHBY   SMYTHE 

THE  song — of  the  inane  sentimental  revue  type,  in  waltz 
time,  of  course — was  not  finished,  and  Norman  and 
Violetta  waited  in  the  hall  rather  than  interrupt  it. 
Violetta  could  have  easily  escaped  to  her  room  had 
she  chosen  to  do  so,  but  she  was  filled  with  the  spirit 
of  defiance.  She  knew  perfectly  well  that  Norman 
would  need  an  ally  against  Ella,  certainly,  if  not  against 
some  of  the  visitors.  From  what  Norman  had  said 
about  them,  she  gathered  that  they  were  of  the  new 
rich  class,  always  ready  to  stand  on  what  they  called 
their  "  dignity " — others  might  term  it  vulgarity — 
and  the  absence  of  their  host  they  might  regard  as  a 
great  offence.  Still,  much  might  be  forgiven  a  baronet. 
No  doubt  Violetta  would  be  looked  upon  as  the  chief 
culprit,  and  she  was  ready  to  defend  herself  if  need  be 


96  A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

She  chanced  to  look  at  Norman.  He  had  gone  very 
pale  and  he  was  gnawing  his  lower  lip  nervously.  He 
evidently  dreaded  the  coming  conflict.  Violetta  was 
puzzled.  It  was  unaccountable  that  he  should  be  in 
such  terror  of  his  sister. 

The  song  ended  in  a  prolonged  note,  loud  and  shrill, 
and  the  accompanist's  concluding  chord  was  drowned 
in  uproarious  applause.  Norman  still  hung  back. 

"  We'd  better  face  the  situation,"  whispered  Violetta. 
"  We've  got  to  do  it  some  time,  you  know." 

Her  steady  voice  and  her  composed  manner  gave  him 
courage.  They  entered  before  the  clamour  died  away. 
Some  of  the  audience  were  eager  for  an  encore,  which, 
without  a  doubt,  would  have  been  granted,  but  for 
the  distraction  caused  by  the  unexpected  appearance 
of  the  two  truants.  Every  eye  was  turned  in  their 
direction,  and  Violetta  did  not  fail  to  note  the  glare 
of  annoyance  thrown  at  her  by  the  vocalist. 

Ella  hastened  to  her  brother.  She  looked  un- 
mistakably angry. 

"  Don't  make  your  apologies  just  yet,  John,"  she 
whispered  snappishly.  "  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  is 
going  to  sing  again.  So  like  you,  to  come  at  the  wrong 
moment." 

Of  Violetta  she  took  not  the  slightest  notice. 

But  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  had  no  intention  of 
obliging  again.  She  kept  her  stony  stare  fixed  on 
Violetta  and  then  deliberately  turned  her  back — there 
was  a  good  deal  of  the  latter  on  view.  She  was  a  tall 
fair  woman,  with  a  well-developed — almost  too  well- 
developed — form,  and  she  was  undeniably  handsome,  but 
of  a  type  more  fleshly  than  refined.  Her  complexion 
was  artistically  laid  on,  and  herein  she  showed  discretion. 
It  was  not  overdone.  Her  age  was  probably  not  less 
than  thirty. 

Violetta  classed  her  at  once.  She  had  seen  many 
like  her  in  Paris,  on  the  race  course,  and  at  the  Folies 
Bergere.  Her  prototype  was  familiar  at  Monte  Carlo. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  97 

These  women  were  out  to  make  money  not  by  their  wits 
but  by  the  exhibition  of  their  charms.  But  anyone 
less  like  the  orthodox  spiritualistic  medium  could 
hardly  be  conceived.  What  was  she  doing  in  that 
galere  ?  Violetta  looked  at  her  with  considerable 
curiosity  and  decided  that  her  interest  in  the  Norman 
household  was  deepening. 

Norman  knew  one  or  two  of  the  visitors  and  greeted 
them  politely.  Then  Ella  took  him  in  charge  and 
introduced  him  to  others,  coming  finally  to  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby  Smythe,  who  with  her  back  still  turned  to  the 
company  generally,  was  apparently  absorbed  in  turning 
over  a  pile  of  music. 

"  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe,"  said  Ella  in  her  high- 
pitched  voice,  "  I  want  to  introduce  my  brother  to  you." 

The  lady  wheeled  round  slowly  and  fixed  a  somewhat 
hard  smile  on  Sir  John.  The  latter  bowed  without 
saying  a  word. 

"  I  shall  leave  him  to  make  his  excuses  for  missing  your 
striking  demonstration  of  psychic  power." 

Ella  swished  away  and  the  two  were  left  together. 
No  one  was  very  near,  and  the  loud  chatter  effectually 
masked  their  voices.  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  waited 
for  Sir  John  to  speak,  and  he  had  no  alternative  but 
to  begin. 

"  What  does  your  coming  here  mean  ?  "  he  asked 
coldly. 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  again.  I  wanted  your  forgive- 
ness. I  know  I  behaved  in  a  very  silly  fashion,  and 
you  must  have  thought  ever  so  many  bad  things  about 
me.  But,  as  you  must  admit,  I  wasn't  wholly  to  blame." 

"  Is  it  worth  while  to  go  into  the  past  ?  "  said  he. 
"  You  took  your  own  course  and  I  suppose  you  acted 
according  to  what  you  thought  was  right.  I've  nothing 
to  say.  You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  forgive  you." 

"  Indeed  I  do.  You  must.  Of  course,  we  can't 
discuss  the  matter  here.  I  ask  you — I  entreat  you  to 
meet  me,  I  want  to  go  into  an  explanation." 


"  I'd  rather  not  hear  it.  What  would  be  the  use  ? 
It's  all  over  between  us." 

"  Indeed  it  isn't.  How  can  it  be  so  ?  You  know 
better  than  that,  John.  Don't  make  an  enemy  of  me. 
I  warn  you." 

Up  to  this  point  her  voice,  which  was  really  musical, 
was  soft  and  wheedling.  It  now  took  on  a  harshness 
of  which  one  would  hardly  have  suspected  it  was  capable. 

"  I  don't  desire  that  we  should  be  enemies,  though 
I've  ample  cause  to  look  upon  you  as  anything  but  a 
friend.  Still " 

"  When  will  you  meet  me,  and  where  ?  "  she  inter- 
jected. 

"  You'd  better  write  what  you  wish  to  say.  I  don't 
see  that  any  good  can  come  of  a  meeting." 

"  Who's  the  girl  you've  been  taking  for  a  joy  ride  ?  " 
she  burst  out  with  a  quiver  in  her  utterance  which  told 
of  passion  raging  within  her. 

"  She's  a  friend  of  my  sister's,  but  it's  no  affair  of 
yours." 

"  That's  where  you  make  a  mistake.  It  is  my  affair, 
and  you  know  it. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind.  Of  all  people  in  the 
world,  you've  the  least  right  to  criticise  what  I  choose 
to  do." 

She  laughed  scornfully. 

"  We'll  see  about  that  later  on.  Don't  forget  that 
I  can  if  I  choose  throw  a  bombshell  into  this  room 
that  you  wouldn't  find  very  pleasant." 

"  Nor  would  you.  I  can't  imagine  you  making  such 
a  fool  of  yourself,  Christine." 

The  lady's  eyes  were  blazing  in  the  effort  to  control 
herself,  and  she  compressed  her  lips  until  they  were 
little  more  than  a  thin  white  line.  She  had  evidently 
taken  his  words  to  heart.  John  Norman  had  un- 
expectedly shown  fight.  It  was  his  way.  He  was  not 
wanting  in  courage,  but  it  had  to  be  roused  by  real 
danger.  He  was  at  his  best  when  in  a  hot  corner. 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  99 

"We'll  defer  the  argument,  but  all  the  same  it'll 
have  to  be  thrashed  out." 

"  As  you  please.  For  to-night  I  take  it  we've  said 
enough." 

He  bowed  coldly  and  turned  away.  He  was  only 
just  in  time.  One  of  the  women  whom  he  knew  had 
drawn  near  them  and  had  they  continued  the  alter- 
cation she  must  have  overheard  their  words,  for  do 
what  they  would  they  could  not  help  raising  their 
voices. 

"  Has  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  been  telling  the 
wonderful  things  she  said  about  you  in  her  message 
from  the  other  world  ?  "  asked  the  new  comer. 

"  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  has  revealed  nothing," 
returned  Norman,  with  a  significant  glance  at  the 
"  medium." 

"  I  never  remember  what  I  say  under  the  influence. 
It  all  goes  when  the  spirit  no  longer  desires  to  make 
use  of  me." 

Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  had  a  voice  and  manner 
at  her  command  which  she  employed  when  speaking 
of  the  spirit  world,  and  she  became  preter naturally 
solemn  and  deliberate.  She  had  discovered  that  non- 
sense uttered  in  an  impressive  tone  generally  went 
down  as  truth.  With  spiritualism  personal  conviction 
is  everything. 

"  Is  that  really  so  ?  Well,  that  makes  it  all  the  more 
wonderful.  Then  you  must  get  your  sister,  Sir  John, 
to  tell  you.  She  says  that  if  Mrs.  Willonghby  Smythe 
had  known  you  all  your  life  she  could  not  have  been 
more  accurate.  I  understood  from  Miss  Norman  that 
you  and  Mrs.  Smythe  were  perfect  strangers. 

"  Quite  true,  Miss  Alison,"  rejoined  Norman,  with 
another  challenging  glance  at  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe, 
who  remained  silent. 

"  I  do  hope  you'll  give  us  another  manifestation  soon, 
Mrs.  Smythe.  You  won't  be  leaving  Thames-side 
yet  awhile,  will  you  ?  "  went  on  Miss  Alison. 


loo          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  I  don't  know.  I  haven't  made  any  plans.  I'm 
wanted  very  much  in  London." 

"  Oh  you  must  be.  Spiritualism  is  so  interesting 
whether  you  believe  in  it  or  not.  Good-bye.  I  trust 
we  shall  be  meeting  again  before  long.  Good-bye, 
Sir  John.  The  next  time  we  have  a  stance  you  really 
must  come." 

"  I'm  a  sceptic.  I'm  afraid  my  presence  would  act  as 
a  deterrent." 

"  You  don't  know  until  you  try.  I've  heard  of 
pronounced  sceptics  being  convinced  against  their 
wills  and  becoming  fervent  believers.  It  might  be 
so  in  your  case,  Sir  John." 

"  if  might,"  echoed  Norman.  "  Anyhow,  I'm  con- 
tented as  I  am." 

He  shot  the  words  at  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  as  he 
turned  aside  to  shake  hands  with  another  departing 
guest. 

The  evening  was  at  an  end.  The  end  had  come  about 
sooner  than  was  expected.  Somehow  the  arrival  of 
Norman  and  Violetta  had  broken  into  the  enjoyment 
and  the  interruption  could  not  be  bridged  over.  Ella 
had  not  anticipated  anything  would  follow  the  seance, 
but  a  reaction  had  set  in  after  an  hour's  enforced  silence 
in  a  darkened  room,  and  music  was  welcomed. 

Violetta  was  not  averse  to  the  exodus.  Ella  had 
hehaved  very  rudely  towards  her  and  had  not  spoken. 
She  was  being  cut  severely,  but  she  did  not  show  the 
least  resentment.  She  could  have  slipped  away  without 
being  noticed,  but  she  never  moved.  She  was  deter- 
mined to  sit  through  the  drama  which  was  going  on 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  Not  a  single  word  could, 
of  course,  be  heard,  but  the  faces  of  Sir  John  and  Mrs. 
Willoughby  Smythe  told  her  they  were  not  indulging 
in  commonplaces. 

Violetta  had  not  removed  her  outdoor  costume,  but 
she  was  in  keeping  with  others  in  the  room.  The  party 
was  quite  an  informal  one,  and  only  Mrs.  Willoughby 


A  QUEEN  OF  THE  PADDOCK       iot 

Smythe  in  her  capacity  as  medium  was  hatless.  On 
the  whole  Violetta  was  satisfied  with  her  appearance 
and  was  perfectly  conscious  that  the  sober  simplicity 
of  her  attire  was  in  effective  contrast  with  the  over- 
gowned  and  over-jewelled  women.  Quite  at  home, 
she  chatted  easily  with  her  nearest  neighbour,  hoping 
to  annoy  Ella  by  her  indifference  to  the  slight  sought 
to  be  put  upon  her. 

But  when  the  last  visitor  had  departed  she  prepared 
herself  for  the  fray.  She  made  up  her  mind  she  would 
have  no  assistance  from  Sir  John  who,  with  a  cigarette 
between  his  lips,  was  walking  restlessly  about  the 
room,  but  this  did  not  matter.  She  could  always 
fight  for  herself. 

Ella  came  up  to  her  boiling  with  emotional  rage. 
She  could  only  control  herself  sufficiently  to  ejaculate 
one  word  which  escaped  her  like  a  pellet  from  a  pop- 
gun. 

"  Well !  " 

"  Well — what  ?  "  was  Violetta's  retort. 

"  What  ?  What  explanation  have  you  to  offer 
of  your  extraordinary  conduct  ?  " 

"  Extraordinary  conduct  ?  Please,  Ella,  spare  me. 
I  never  was  good  at  guessing  riddles." 

"  No  ?  Well,  I  think  I  can  guess  yours.  I  call  it 
most  disgraceful." 

"  Call  what  most  disgraceful  ?  " 

"  Your  motoring  about  all  day  with  John  and  re- 
turning at  this  time  of  night." 

Norman  interposed. 

"  Come,  now,  Ella,  be  fair.     What  has  Violetta ?  " 

"  Violetta  ?     I  suppose  you  mean  Miss  Vaughan." 

"I  said  Violetta,  and  I  mean  Violetta.  If  you're 
going  to  work  yourself  into  a  passion  over  anybody, 
please  select  me.  I'm  used  to  your  hysterical  out- 
bursts, she's  not.  If  there's  any  blame — which  I 
flatly  deny — I'll  take  it.  But,  good  Heavens,  do  you 
suppose  I'm  to  be  talked  to  as  though  I  were  a  school 


102          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

boy  ?     Don't    answer,    Violctta.     There's    nothing    for 
you  to  answer." 

Norman's  sudden  show  of  spirit  both  surprised  and 
pleased  Violetta. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Sir  John,"  said  she. 

"  Sir  John  ?  Why  not  John — or  dear  John.  I've 
no  doubt  it  was  dear  John  and  dear  Violetta  on  your 
joy  ride." 

"  Oh,  you're  simply  impossible,"  cried  Norman, 
waving  his  hand  at  Violetta  to  signal  her  to  keep  sillencc 
though  he  need  not  have  troubled  himself.  She  was 
quite  contented  to  shrug  her  shoulders  and  allow  him 
to  carry  on  the  contest  single  handed.  She  was  curious 
to  see  whether  he  would  hold  his  own. 

"  Impossible,  am  I  ?  Then  what  are  you  ?  The 
story  will  be  common  talk  all  over  the  place  to-morrow. 
There's  nothing  the  people  down  here  like  better  than 
scandal.  I  begin  to  think  there's  a  good  deal  of  truth 
in  what  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythc  said  while  she  was 
in  a  trance." 

"  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  in  a  trance  !  That's  too 
funny.  But  I'll  have  no  more  of  this  nonsense.  It's 
absolutely  silly.  I  apologise  to  }'ou,  Violetta.  I'm 
sorry  my  sister  has  made  such  an  exhibition  of  herself." 

"I'm  sorry  too,  but  it's  not  of  the  least  consequence 
excepting  that  I  regret  I've  been  the  cause  of  so  much 
trouble  between  you.  However,  I  can  easily  put  an 
end  to  it.  To-morrow  morning  I  return  to  London." 

"  I  should  think  so,  indeed,"  almost  shrieked  Ella, 
who  was  not  to  be  appeased  while  her  nerves  were  in 
tumult. 

"  I  wish  you  good-night,  Sir  John,  and  thank  you — 
not  only  for  the  ride  but  for  what  you've  said  just  now 
in  my  behalf." 

Violetta  did  not  show  the  least  discomposure.  Nor- 
m  an,  anticipating  her,  moved  swiftly  to  the  door,  opened 
it  for  her,  and  held  out  his  hand  as  she  passed. 

"  You  're  quite  right  to  leave  the  house,  but  it's  not 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          103 

going  to  mean  a  parting  between  us,"  said  he  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  I  don't  see  why  it  should.     Good-night  once  more." 

Then  she  vanished.  She  had  caught  sight  of  Ella's 
face  white  with  fury.  But  for  this  she  did  not  care  a 
button.  She  had  roused  Norman's  latent  energy,  and 
this  was  everything. 

"  I've  always  said  you  were  a  fool  where  women 
were,  John,"  burst  out  his  sister.  "  If  I'd  thought 
Violetta's  object  in  coming  here  was  to  make  love  to 
you  I'd  never  have  invited  her.  Yet  I  might  have 
known  what  would  happen.  At  school  she  was  always 
getting  other  girls  into  scrapes  and  escaping  blame 
herself." 

"  Look  here,  Ella,  I'm  not  in  the  mood  to  quarrel 
with  you,  either  about  Violetta  or  anybody  else.  Good- 
night." 

He  walked  off  to  Ella's  intense  disgust.  She  had 
worked  herself  into  a  volcano  of  rage  and  was  eager  to 
vent  it  upon  her  brother.  But  it  would  keep.  She 
had  seen  John  many  a  time  before  slip  out  of  a  wrangle 
by  a  judicious  retirement.  It  was  his  way  of  admitting 
his  defeat.  She  could  not  believe  that  his  precipitous 
retreat  meant  any  more  than  his  usual  flight. 

The  next  morning  Violetta  was  up  betimes.  She 
always  got  on  well  with  servants  as  she  never  assumed 
airs  and  was  generous  with  her  tips.  She  easily  per- 
suaded a  housemaid  to  go  out  and  arrange  for  a  taxi 
to  come  for  her  and  her  luggage.  She  refused  breakfast 
and  accepted  only  a  cup  of  tea.  She  was  anxious  to 
get  away  as  soon  as  possible,  and  so  avoid  an  encounter 
with  Ella,  which  would  have  been  an  unprofitable 
waste  of  time.  As  for  Sir  John — well,  she  didn't  par- 
ticularly want  to  see  him.  She  was  still  in  the  same 
mind  about  renting  the  Owl's  Nest,  but  he  had  given 
her  the  name  and  address  of  his  solicitor,  and  she  could 
easily  arrange  the  matter  through  the  lawyer. 

No  one  was  in  the  dining-room  when  she  went    in. 


104          A   QUEEN  QF    THE   PADDOCK 

The  cook  was  scandalised  at  the  idea  of  so  nice  a  young 
lady  going  away  breakfastless,  and  on  her  own  re- 
sponsibility had  added  an  egg  and  bread  and  butter 
to  the  cup  of  tea.  She  was  indifferent  to  what  her 
mistress  would  say,  but  there  was  little  risk  of  her 
knowing  anything  about  it,  as  after  one  of  her  outbursts 
of  nerves  Ella  usually  remained  in  bed  half  the  next  day. 

Violetta  swallowed  the  meal  hastily  lest  Norman 
should  come  in  and  delay  her.  The  early  morning 
is  always  an  unfavourable  time  for  discussing  em- 
barrassing questions.  One  is  rarely  strung  up  to  the 
proper  pitch,  and  she  was  thankful  he  did  not  make  his 
appearance. 

Before  nine  o'clock  she  was  at  the  station,  where  she 
found  she  had  half,  an  hour  to  wait  for  the  train. 

For  ten  minutes  or  so  she  walked  up  and  down  the 
platform  and  was  about  to  sit  down  when  she  saw 
Norman  emerge  from  the  booking  office  and  look  about 
him.  Directly  he  caught  sight  of  her  he  came  forward 
rapidly. 

"  By  Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  raising  his  hat,  "  you 
flitted  away  like  a  ghost.  You  hadn't  been  gone  a 
minute  before  I  came  down.  I  wanted  to  have  a  word 
with  you.  I  didn't  think  you  would  be  off  so  early. 
You  needn't  have  been  in  such  a  hurry.  Still,  I'd 
rather  talk  with  you  here  than  in  the  house.  Whether 
sleeping  or  waking,  Ella's  spirit  somehow  is  always 
pervading  the  place.  What  did  you  think  of  the  un- 
pleasantness last  night  ?  " 

"I've  forgotten  all  about  it.  On  the  whole,  it  was 
rather  amusing.  You  see,  I  knew  Ella  of  old.  Perhaps 
it  was  as  well  we  came  to  grips  at  an  early  stage.  We 
were  bound  to  have  a  row  sooner  or  later." 

"  Yet  knowing  this  you  ventured  to  come." 

"  Yes,  I  ventured  to  come." 

"  Why  on  earth  did  you  ?  " 

"  I  had  so  pleasant  a  recollection  of  my  stay  at 
Normanhurst  I  was  tempted  to  repeat  the  pleasure.  Of 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          105 

course,  I  hadn't  the  slightest  idea  things  had  so  changed. 
Your  losses  don't  seem  to  have  affected  you  so  much 
as  they  have  Ella.  She  has  become  frightfully  tetchy, 
and  much  more  difficult  to  deal  with  than  she  used 
to  be." 

"  Beastly  difficult.  I  wish  to  goodness  she'd  marry 
the  young  fool  she's  engaged  to,  and  let  me  run  alone. 
But  " — his  manner  had  become  a  little  hesitating — 
"  when  I  asked  you  what  you  thought  of  last  night 
I  hadn't  Ella  in  my  mind.  Like  the  poor,  she's  always 
with  us,  and  I  don't  believe  she'll  ever  alter.  What 
I  wanted  to  know  was  your  opinion  of — of  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby  Smythe  ?  " 

"  Does  my  opinion  matter  ?  " 

"  It  matters  very  much — to  me.  You  strike  me 
as  so  level  headed,  Violetta,  that  I  feel  almost  inclined 

to "  he  broke  off,  reddening.  "  Yes,  I  want  your 

opinion  of  her — candidly." 

"  What  one  woman  thinks  of  another  is  bound  to  be 
prejudiced  and  possibly  unfair." 

"  But  often  bitterly  true." 

"  Well,  as  I  presume  what  I  think  can  be  of  no  con- 
sequence to  you  one  way  or  the  other,  I'll  venture  to 
speak  my  mind.  I  don't  know,  of  course,  anything  about 
her  as  a  spiritualistic  medium — she  may  be  genuine, 
she  may  be  a  fraud — but  in  other  respects — by  the  way, 
are  you  interested  in  her  ?  " 

"  In  a  fashion  I  suppose  I  am." 

"  Then  please  let  me  off  saying  anything  more.  I'd 
rather  not." 

"  But  you  must.     I've  my  reasons  for  asking." 

At  that  moment  the  screech  of  an  engine  was  heard. 
The  London  train  was  approaching. 

"  I  can  only  look  upon  her  in  the  light  in  which  one 
woman  always  regards  another,  though  perhaps  she 
won't  confess  it.  I  should  say  to  a  man  who  was 
thinking  of  marrying  her,  remember  Punch's  advice — 
don't." 


106          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

Norman  did  not  at  once  reply.  His  expression  was 
sombre  ;  his  eyes  fixed  on  space.  A  second  screech 
from  the  nearing  engine  recalled  his  wandering  senses. 

"  Advice  which  generally  comes  too  late  to  be  of  any 
good,"  said  he.  "  You  may  be  right  about  Mrs. 
Willoughby  Smythe.  She  has  the  reputation  of  being 
a  reckless  gambler  and  can  never  resist  betting  on  horses. 
She  is  of  a  class  whom  I've  come  to  detest." 

"  Then  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  No  one  better.  She  happens  to  be  my  wife  !  There, 
it's  out.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  but  I  hadn't  the  pluck. 
Good-bye.  Are  you  still  fixed  on  taking  the  Owl's 
Nest  ?  " 

Violetta  stood  mute.  The  unexpected  confession 
had  paralysed  her.  Before  she  had  recovered  herself 
the  train  was  slowing  down  at  the  platform.  There 
was  no  time  to  express  astonishment  or  sympathy — if 
sympathy  was  required.  All  she  could  do  was  to 
reply  to  his  question. 

"  Yes  " — she  forced  herself  to  say — "  I  shall  call 
on  your  lawyer  as  soon  as  I  get  back  to  town." 

"  I'm  glad — I'm  awfully  glad.  I  don't  want  to 
lose  sight  of  you.  I  won't.  Good-bye — and  good 
luck." 

The  next  minute  she  was  in  the  carriage  and  the 
train  bore  her  away.  Norman,  hat  in  hand,  waved  her 
a  farewell. 


CHAPTER  XI 
PETER  GUMLEY.  THE  TRAINER 

A  pleasant  undulating  bit  of  country  is  that  part  of 
Sussex  known  as  Holberry  Down.  Long  stretches  of 
fine  turf  on  a  chalk  bottom  alternate  with  sweet  smelling 
pines  and  firs,  which  flourish  healthily  on  the  strips 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          107 

of  sandy  soil  to  be  found,  by  some  odd  geological  freak, 
stuck  here  and  there  among  the  chalk.  As  fine  a  place 
for  a  morning  gallop  as  one  could  find  in  all  England, 
and  no  wonder  that  experienced  judge  of  horseflesh 
Peter  Gumley,  selected  it  as  an  ideal  place  for  a  training- 
stable. 

Peter  Gumley  was  a  man  who  had  been  used  to 
horses  ever  since  he  had  been  out  of  the  cradle.  He 
was  quite  sixty  years  of  age,  but  looked  no  more  than 
forty,  thanks  to  his  early  hours  at  night,  his  equally 
early  hours  in  the  morning,  and  his  regular  and  ab- 
stemious life. 

He  was  stoutly  built,  slightly  bowed  about  the  legs, 
as  most  horsey  men  are,  and  with  a  quiet  resolute  face. 
His  hair  was  closely  cut,  and  of  a  gingery  hue,  and  he 
had  a  slight  fringe  of  whiskers,  corresponding  in  colour 
to  his  hair,  on  the  edge  of  each  cheek.  He  always 
dressed  very  quietly,  generally  in  a  tweed  suit  of  a  sort 
of  snuff  tint,  and  wore  a  white  pique  scarf  with  a 
big  diamond  pin — the  gift  of  some  grateful  patron — 
blazing  in  the  centre. 

Just  now  there  was  an  irritable  expression  on  his  rosy 
gills  as  he  walked  from  the  big  stable  yard  into  the  neat 
garden  wrhich  surrounded  his  house,  a  plain,  square, 
uncompromising  sort  of  building,  dull  brick  with  a 
door  in  the  centre,  a  window  each  side  and  three  windows 
upstairs. 

The  house  had  originally  belonged  to  a  farmer,  and 
was  even  uglier  than  it  was  now,  for  Mrs.  Gumley 
Peter's  wife,  having  a  fancy  for  flowers,  had  trained  a 
wisteria,  a  passion  flower  and  a  clematis  over  the  front, 
and  this  side  of  the  building,  at  all  events,  was  pleasant 
to  the  eye. 

Mrs.  Gumley  herself  was  standing  within  a  little 
latticed  porch,  which  projected  about  a  foot  from  the 
door,  and  watched  her  husband  enter  the  garden  and 
walk  towards  her  down  a  neatly  trimmed  box-edge 
path. 


io8  A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  Well,  Peter,"  said  she,  enquiringly. 

"  I'll  have  no  more  of  it.  I've  given  him  a  clout  on 
the  ear  and  sent  him  packing. 

"  Oh,  Peter,  the  best  rider  in  the  stable  !  " 

"And  the  worst  boy — the  worst  every  way  'cepting 
when  his  legs  are  across  the  saddle." 

"  I  suppose  it  could  not  be  helped,"  said  Mrs.  Gumley, 
regretfully.  She  was  a  buxom,  good-natured  dame, 
with  rather  a  soft  heart,  and  was  at  least  ten  years 
younger  than  her  husband. 

"  Be  helped  !  Of  course  it  can't !  Look  here,  Mary, 
this  is  the  third  time  that  boy  has  got  drunk,  and  his 
sixteenth  birthday  only  last  week." 

"  I  know  he's  a  little  weak-minded,  but  I'd  ha'  given 
him  another  chance  if  I'd  been  you." 

"  Chances  !  "  exclaimed  the  trainer  irritably.  "  He's 
had  more  chances  than  any  boy  I've  ever  had  in  the 
stables.  And  as  for  his  being  weak-minded,  why, 
that  only  makes  the  thing  worse.  What's  to  prevent 
him  being  laid  hold  of  by  any  of  the  scheming  black- 
guards who  are  always  on  the  look-out  for  a  '  weak- 
minded  '  boy,  and  selling  us  ?  A  boy  who  begins  by 
drinking  '11  end  in  hocussing." 

"  Oh,  Peter  !  I'm  sure  Tim  would  never  do  such  a 
dreadful  thing  !  "  returned  Mrs.  Gumley,  looking  scared. 

To  her  "  hocussing "  a  racehorse  was  worse  than 
burglary,  forgery,  or  arson.  It  ranked  next  to  wilful 
murder. 

"  Well,  I  hope  not ;  but  see  here — who  do  you  think 
give  him  the  drink  ?  " 

"  Law  me  !  how  should  I  know  ?  " 

"  Barney  Moss,  that  Jew  chap,  who's  been  stopping 
at  the  '  Barley  Mow  '  for  the  past  fortnight,  and  whom 
I've  seen  hanging  round  the  stables  no  end  of  times. 
He's  here  for  no  good,  Mary." 

"That's  true.  Well,  I'm  sorry  for  Tim  Hollis.  Such 
a  nice  looking  boy,  too  !  " 

"He's  got  a  bad  strain  in  him,  take  my  word  for 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  109 

it.  Anyhow,  he's  gone,  and  on  the  whole  I  think  the 
place  is  well  rid  of  him." 

And  Peter  Gumley  stepped  into  the  house  and  sat 
down  in  the  cool  little  sitting-room,  where  he  took 
off  his  hat  and  mopped  his  heated  brow  with  a  blue 
bordered  handkerchief. 

It  wasn't  often  that  Peter  Gumley  allowed  himself 
to  be  so  excited.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  had  a  sort  of 
sneaking  liking  for  the  erring  Tim  Hollis,  and  it  put 
him  out  terribly  that  the  lad  should  have  gone  wrong. 
But  his  duty  was  clear  before  him.  Splendid  rider  as  the 
boy  was,  and  fully  acquainted  as  he  might  be  with  all 
the  ins  and  outs  of  the  string  of  colts  at  present  lodged 
at  Holberry  Down  Farm,  it  was  not  safe  to  keep  him, 
and  go  he  must. 

And  go  he  did,  and  there  he  was,  with  a  slouching 
gait,  in  a  dusty  road  that  crossed  the  Downs  into  Norman- 
hurst  village,  leaving  so  far  as  he  knew  Holberry  Down 
for  ever. 

He  was  rather  a  sturdy  lad  for  a  stable-boy,  who  is 
generally  undersized  and  wizened  looking.  He  had 
ruddy  cheeks  and  a  thick  shock  head  of  red  hair.  He 
was,  as  Mrs.  Gumley  had  said,  a  nice  looking  boy, 
but  to  a  judge  of  character  the  face  was  spoilt  by  a  weak 
mouth  and  chin,  and  somewhat  heavy  brows.  The 
features,  indeed,  were  contradictory.  They  betokened 
a  mixture  of  obstinacy  and  irresolution.  Tim  Hollis's 
life  depended  upon  the  people  he  associated  with,  and 
upon  those  who  had  an  influence  over  him  for  good 
or  for  evil. 

Just  now  he  had  a  sullen  look  upon  his  face,  and  as 
he  moved  slowly  along,  almost  dragging  one  foot  after 
the  other  in  the  thick  dust,  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  chewing  a  straw  between  his  teeth,  even  good 
Mrs.  Gumley  must  have  admitted  there  were  few  signs 
of  penitence  and  remorse  about  him. 

It  did  not  much  matter  where  he  went.  He  knew 
he  should  find  occupation  wherever  horses  were,  and 


no 

so  he  did  not  trouble.  Indeed,  his  mind  was  occupied 
with  thoughts  of  revenge,  and  when  this  feeling  takes 
possession  of  one  there  is  not  much  room  for  anything 
else. 

"  Peter  Gumley  might  have  treated  me  better,  con- 
sidering what  I  know.  But  then,  Gumley  doesn't  know 
what  I  know.  He'd  have  done  differently  if  he  had  ; 
that  cuff  of  the  head  what  he  give  me  stopped  my  mouth. 
I'd  ha'  told  him  why  Barney  Moss  made  me  tipsy 
last  night,  if  he'd  spoke  to  me  fair.  Now  I  shan't. 

Tim  Hollis  strode  on  moodily,  and  the  straw  in  his 
mouth  became  shorter  as  he  nibbled  bits  and  spat  them 
out  of  his  mouth. 

Another  quarter  of  a  mile  and  he  would  be  on  the 
top  of  the  downs  and  be  looking  over  Normanhurst. 

The  downs  rose  by  a  very  gentle  inclination,  but  the 
gradient  of  the  old  road  years  ago  had  been  found  too 
steep  for  carriage  traffic,  and  so  a  road  had  been  cut 
skirting  the  acclivity,  and  thus  securing  a  fairly  level 
piece  of  driving. 

Just  where  the  fork  of  the  upper  and  lower  road 
was  situated,  there  was  a  grassy  bank  at  the  foot  of 
which  bubbled  a  spring  of  clear  water.  It  had  been  cut 
into  when  the  lower  road  was  made,  and  there  it  was, 
sending  up  hundreds  of  gallons  a  day  which  were  running 
to  waste. 

Tim  was  thirsty.  He  laid  himself  down  on  his 
stomach,  dipped  his  face  in  the  bubbling  spring,  and 
lapped  the  water  like  a  dog.  When  he  was  satisfied 
and  had  withdrawn  his  dripping  face  he  saw  a  young 
lady  standing  near  watching  him.  She  was  nice  to  look 
upon  Tim  at  once  decided,  with  her  grey  tailor  made 
costume,  its  short  skirt  revealing  her  leather  gaiters, 
and  her  masculine  collar  and  flowing  scarf,  and  as  a 
well  brought  up  lad  used  to  the  fine  ladies  who  crowded 
the  racecourse  enclosures,  lie  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
bowed  politely.  The  lady  smiled  in  acknowledgment. 

"  You  drank  the  water  as  if  you  enjoyed  it,"  said  she. 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  in 

"  It's  all  right  so  fur  as  water  can  be  right.  I  gue  ss 
I  shan't  have  a  chance  of  anything  else  for  a  goodish 
time." 

"  Oh  ?  " 

"  Down  on  my  luck,  miss.  I  suppose  yon  don't 
know  of  a  job  going  anywhere  ?  " 

"  What  kind  of  job  ?  " 

"  Anything  to  do  with  'orses,  don't  matter  what." 

"  You're  used  to  horses,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Just  a  bit.  Bin  among  'em  ever  since  I  was  a  kid, 
an'  before  that.  I  believe  I  was  born  in  a  stable." 

The  lady  looked  at  the  lad  with  increased  interest. 
She  noted  his  old-looking,  face,  his  long  nose  and  his 
thin  lipped  mouth.  She  knew  the  signs. 

"  Where  were  you  employed  ?  " 

"  Up  at  old  Peter  Gumley's  stables,  Holberry  Down, 
across  yonder.  He  gave  me  the  push  this  morning. 
The  missus  would  ha'  kept  me  on — she's  one  o'  the 
best  when  you  know  her — but  the  old  man — no.  So 
he  fired  me." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  I  dunno.  He  hadn't  got  no  fault  with  me  as  far 
as  my  dooties  went." 

"  What  did  he  find  fault  with,  then  ?  " 

"  Said  I  lifted  my  right  'and  too  often.  P'raps  you 
don't  know  what  that  means,  miss." 

"  Oh,  yes  I  do.     And  was  it  true  ?  " 

"  Once  in  a  way  maybe,  but  it  warn't  my  fault." 

"  I  hope  it  wasn't.  You're  too  young  to  begin 
that  kind  of  thing." 

She  looked  at  the  lad  keenly.  He  had  not  a  vicious 
face.  Most  likely  it  was  as  he  said.  It  seemed  a  pity 
he  should  be  allowed  to  drift  from  bad  to  worse. 

"  Look  here,  boy,  I'm  going  to  see  Mr.  Gumley.  Shall 
I  speak  to  him  for  you,  and  ask  him  to  take  you  back  ?  " 

"  Thank  'ee  kindly  Miss,  but  I'd  rather  you  didn't. 
I  don't  want  to  go  back.  It  won't  do  me  no  good." 

"  How's  that  ?  " 


112          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  'Cause  it  won't.  I  ain't  sorry  to  get  away.  I'd 
rather  work  for  you,  miss." 

"  I  can't  give  you  a  job  that  would  suit  you.  I've 
no  horses." 

"  There  might  be  something  else." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  gardening  or  poul- 
try?" 

"  I  guess  I  do.     I'd  like  'em  for  a  change." 

"  You  wouldn't  stay.  Before  long  you'd  want  to  go 
where  there  are  horses." 

"  You  might  try  me,  miss." 

"  Yes,  I  might  do  that,  but  I  won't  promise.  Do 
you  know  the  Owl's  Nest  near  Weltersfield  ?  " 

"  Course  I  do,  but  there  ain't  anybody  living  there." 

"  Oh,  yes  there  is.  I  am.  Come  this  evening  and 
I'll  see  what  I  can  do.  Ask  for  Miss  Vaughan.  But 
don't  reckon  upon  anything  for  certain,  mind." 

"  Right  y'are,  miss."  . 

The  lad  brightened  visibly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  meanwhile  ?  " 

"  Walk  about  I  s'pose." 

"  Got  any  money  ?  " 

"  Stoney  broke,  miss." 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  are,"  thought  Violetta. 
"  I'll  chance  it.  I've  been  like  that  myself  more  than 
once.  It's  not  a  nice  sensation." 

She  gave  him  a  shilling.  Tim  Hollis  could  hardly 
believe  his  eyes.  He  spat  upon  it  for  luck. 

"  You  are  a  good  sort,  miss." 

Violetta  nodded  and  went  on  her  way  to  Holberry 
Down.  She  had  been  at  the  Owl's  Nest  now  nearly  a 
month  and  had  worked  like  a  nigger  in  getting  the  place 
in  order.  She'd  not  seen  Norman  nor  heard  from  him 
since  leaving  The  Willows.  There  hadn't  been  the 
slightest  difficulty  in  dealing  with  his  lawyer,  and  she 
had  taken  the  place  for  three  years.  She  half  expected 
Norman  would  have  written  to  her  on  the  settlement 
of  the  business,  but  he  had  not,  and  she  concluded  that 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  113 

after   his    astounding   admission    about    his    marriage, 
he  did  not  care  to  do  so. 

Of  her  own  feelings  on  the  matter  she  would  not  allow 
herself  to  think.  Every  day  meant  such  strenuous 
work  that  she  always  went  to  bed  dog  tired.  She  was 
wholly  absorbed  in  transforming  the  Owl's  Nest  ac- 
cording to  her  own  ideas,  and  with  the  assistance  of 
a  country  woman,  strong  as  a  horse,  and  an  old  man 
who  came  in  every  day  she.  wrought  wonders.  The 
change  from  her  indolent  life  of  the  past  year  to  one 
of  intense  activity  suited  her  restless,  energetic  tem- 
perament admirably  and  she  wondered  how  she  could 
have  endured  frittering  away  her  time  at  Monte  Carlo. 
Still,  her  stay  there  had  ended  advantageously.  With- 
out the  £250  from  the  stranger  for  whom  she  had  acted 
as  a  mascotte  and  whom  she  set  down  as  a  "  bookie," 
she  could  not  have  started  her  enterprise  at  the  Owl's 
Nest. 

What  that  enterprise  was  Violetta  kept  to  herself,  but 
it  certainly  was  not  poultry  farming.  Her  visit  now 
to  Peter  Gumley  was  to  be  the  first  step  in  the  furtherance 
of  her  plans. 

She  made  her  way  to  the  square,  unpretending  house 
of  the  trainer.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  well-kept 
garden,  and  the  whole  was  fenced  off  from  the  stables 
and  meadows.  Any  visitor  to  Peter  Gumley  who 
imagined  he  would  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
horses  Peter  had  under  his  charge  would  have  been 
greviously  disappointed.  Moreover  Peter  had  a 
vigilant  staff  of  stable  helps  part  of  whose  duties  it 
was  to  keep  pertinacious  racing  touts  at  bay. 

Violetta  knocked  at  the  door.  It  was  opened  by 
Mrs.  Gumley,  who  was  evidently  not  disposed  to  make 
herself  agreeable  until  she  was  sure  of  her  ground. 

"  And  what  may  you  please  want,  miss  ?  "  said  she, 
after  surveying  Violetta  up  and  down. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Gumley." 

"  Aye,  an'  what  about  may  I  ask  ?     I  daresay  I  can 


H4          A    QUEEN  OF   THE    PADDOCK 

manage  your  business.  It's  just  the  same  whether 
you  talk  to  my  husband  or  to  me." 

Mrs.  Gumley's  manner  was  not  encouraging.  Violetta 
reckoned  her  up  as  an  admirable  lady  Cerberus  and 
worth  her  weight  in  gold  to  Peter. 

"  I'm  sure  it  is,"  said  Violetta,  sweetly.  "  I'm  a 
new  neighbour  of  yours,  but  I  hope  I'm  none  the  worse 
for  that." 

"  A  new  neighbour  ?     Yes,  and  what  then  ?  " 

"  My  name's  Vaughan.  I'm  living  at  the  Owl's 
Nest." 

"  Be  you  ?  I  did  hear  as  Squire  Norman  had  let  the 
place.  So  you're  his  tenant.  I  don't  want  to  be 
uncivil,  but  I  can't  see  as  your  living  at  Owl's  Nest 
makes  you  any  the  more  welcome.  My  husband  and 
Sir  John  bean't  the  best  o'  friends." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  I'm  sorry.  I  feel  I  ought  to  apologise 
for  troubling  you,  but  I'm  rather  interested  in  a  lad 
I  met  in  the  road  just  now.  He  told  me  he'd  been  in 
your  employ  and  had  been  dismissed,  and  he  seemed 
so  downhearted  that  I  was  tempted  to  take  him  into 
my  service.  Now  could  you  recommend  him  ?  " 

This  was  not  at  all  the  business  which  had  brought 
Violetta  to  the  house.  She  knew  the  secretive  ways 
of  trainers,  and  saw  in  the  boy  an  excuse  for  calling. 
Otherwise  her  errand  might  have  been  fruitless.  It 
was  a  stroke  of  luck,  for  the  mention  of  the  lad  awoke 
Mrs.  Gumley's  sympathies.  She  was  heartily  sorry 
for  him.  For  all  that,  she  did  not  lose  her  caution. 
After  what  her  husband  had  hinted  about  the  boy, 
she  was  not  eager  to  accept  any  responsibility.  At 
the  same  time,  she  was  anxious  to  do  him  a  good  turn. 

"  So  far  as  I'm  concerned,  the  boy's  always  behaved 
nicely.  I  found  him  willing  and  obliging,  but  of  late 
he  didn't  get  on  well  with  the  gov'nor.  I'd  rather 
you  talked  to  Mr.  Gumley  about  him." 

Violetta  desired  nothing  better,  but  she  showed  no 
eagerness.  It  was  rather  the  other  way  about. 


A   QUEEN    OF    THE   PADDOCK  115 

"  Certainly — if  it's  not  taking  up  his  time.  Perhaps 
he's  busy." 

"  There's  always  plenty  to  do  here,  but  I'll  sec.  Step 
in,  Miss  Vaughan,  and  I'll  see." 

So  Violetta  followed  the  good  lady  into  the  neat 
sitting-room,  where  everything  was  mathematically 
arranged,  even  to  the  pictures  of  famous  race  horses 
and  jockeys  and  turf  celebrities  generally,  on  the  walls. 
Mrs.  Gumley  dusted  a  chair,  more  from  force  of  habit 
than  because  it  needed  dusting,  and  left  her  visitor 
to  herself. 

Peter  Gumley  came  in.  Violetta  recognised  him 
at  once.  He  was  the  man  she  had  seen  in  the  meadow 
when  Norman's  car  frightened  the  horses.  Mr.  Gumley 
saluted  his  visitor  with  his  forefinger  to  his  forehead. 

"  Mornin',  young  lady.  My  missus  tells  me  as 
you're  thinking  of  engaging  young  Tim  Hollis." 

"  If  that's  the  name  of  the  lad,  yes.     Is  he  honest  ?  " 

"  So  fur  as  money  goes,  I  b'lieve  so.  Not  a  bad  chap 
in  some  ways,  but  I'm  afraid  he's  got  into  a  queer  set. 
But  if  you  don't  run  racehorses  I  guess  that  set  won't 
have  much  use  for  him.  Mind  you,  it's  only  my  sus- 
picions. He  drinks  a  bit,  too,  but  he  may  give  that  up 
if  he  once  gets  out  with  the  lot  that  I'm  afraid  's  got  hold 
of  him." 

"  But  he  knows  horses  ?  " 

"  Knows  a  lot.  That's  where  the  shame  of  it  comes 
in.  He's  got  all  the  makings  in  him  of  a  first-rate 
jockey." 

"  He  might  suit  me,  then.  I  think  of  buying  a  race 
horse." 

Peter  Gumley  stared  at  the  young  lady  open-mouthed. 

"  You  do,  miss  ?     My  word  !     What  for  ?  " 

"  To  make  money,  of  course." 

'  You'll  excuse  me,  but  there's  no  '  of  course.' 
You're  just  as  likely  to  lose  money  as  to  make  it.  It 
wants  a  lot  o'  capital.  If  you  must  go  in  for  the  turf, 
you  might  back  a  horse  so  long  as  you  don't  risk  much," 


ii6          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  I'm  not  so  sure.  I've  heard  it  said  that  it's  safer 
to  bet  on  a  horse  you  know  something  about  than  on 
one  about  which  you  know  nothing.  That's  why  I 
say  I  prefer  to  own  my  own  racer." 

Peter  had  nothing  to  say  to  this.  He  could  only 
stare  again  at  the  young  woman  who  spoke  so  con- 
fidently. 

"  I  wonder,  Mr.  Gumley,  whether  you  knew  my  father, 
Captain  Vaughan,  He  opened  a  riding  school  near 
Regents  Park  some  eighteen  years  ago,  and  afterwards 
ran  a  sporting  club." 

"  Captain  Vaughan  !  What,  are  you  Frank  Vaughan's 
little  girl  who  used  to  ride  a  pony  barebacked,  when 
little  more  than  a  toddler  ?  " 

'  Yes,  though  I  don't  remember  you,  Mr.  Gumley." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  do.  Well,  let's  shake  hands 
anyhow  on  the  strength  of  it.  And  how's  the  dad  ?  " 

"  My  father's  dead,  Mr.  Gumley.  He  was  thrown 
when  riding  in  a  steeplechase  in  France.  I  warned 
him  against  the  horse  he  was  on,  but  it  was  no  good." 

"  I'll  reckon  it  warn't.  Frank  Vaughan  was  bound 
to  have  his  way  if  he  could  get  it.  He  was  a  rare  plucked 
'un  at  going  over  the  sticks,  but  I  told  him  again  an' 
again  he'd  do  it  once  too  often.  Well,  well.  And  so 
you're  going  in  for  the  gees,  are  you  ?  " 

"  In  a  small  way,  yes.  I  haven't  too  much  coin, 
but  I  thought  you  might  have  a  horse  I  could  buy. 
Did  Mrs.  Gumley  tell  you  I'm  renting  the  Owl's  Nest  at 
Weltersfield  ?  " 

"  Aye.  It's  not  a  lucky  place — leastways,  it  brought 
no  luck  to  Sir  John  Norman." 

"  He  never  lived  there,  I'm  told,  so  I  don't  see  what 
it  had  to  do  with  his  bad  luck." 

"  P'raps  not.  Sir  John's  all  right  so  long  as  he's  not 
allowed  to  choose  his  own  friends.  He  seems  bent 
upon  picking  up  all  the  rotten  ones.  It  was  over  one 
of  'em  we  fell  out — George  Godfree.  He  swore  the 
man  was  all  right  'cause  they  were  chums  at  Oxford. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          117 

I  knew  better,  but  he  wouldn't  believe  me.  As  I 
wouldn't  work  with  Gentleman  George  Sir  John  took 
his  horses  away  from  me,  and  came  to  grief." 

"  I've  heard  about  that.  It  was  very  silly  of  him. 
If  I  had  a  string  of  racers,  Mr.  Gumlcy,  you  should 
train  every  one." 

"  Thankee,  Miss  Vaughan.  I  wish  you  had  a  string 
of  'em." 

"  Well,  there  might  be  one,"  rejoined  Violetta,  in 
her  most  seductive  tone.  "  That  is,  if  you've  a  horse 
that  the  owner  would  sell." 

"  What  figure  are  you  willing  to  go  to — £1,000  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious,  no.  I'm  not  a  millionaire — yet. 
I  can't  afford  more  than  £100." 

"  Blest  if  that  ain't  a  woman  all  over.  She  asks  for 
impossibilities,  and  has  a  way  of  getting  'em,  too  ! 
You'd  better  have  a  look  at  my  stables.  If  you're 
as  good  a  judge  of  horseflesh  as  you  were  a  rider,  you'll 
pick  out  the  best  of  the  bunch.  But  it  won't  be  a 
deal  at  your  price.  I've  nothing  like  that." 

"  Never  mind,  Mr.  Gumley.  It'll  be  a  treat  to  see 
what  you've  got,  all  the  same." 


CHAPTER  XII 

VIOLETTA,  THE  HORSE  TAMER 

PETER  led  the  way  through  the  house.  The  back  door 
opened  upon  the  stable  yard,  spick  and  span,  almost 
painfully  clean.  He  called  to  a  groom  and  the  man 
walked  behind  his  master  and  supplemented  when 
necessary  the  description  given  by  Peter  to  the  visitor 
of  the  pedigree  and  capabilities  of  each  horse. 

Violetta  was  at  once  on  good  terms  with  the  animals. 


OF   THE   PADDOCK 

She  patted  and  caressed  them,  gave  them  sugar  and 
allowed  them  to  touch  her  with  their  noses  and  satisfy 
themselves  that  she  was  really  their  friend.  Violetta 
knew  well  enough  how  important  to  horses  is  the  sense 
of  smell. 

But  the  question  of  buying  one,  the  owner  of  which 
might  be  willing  to  part  with,  was  a  different  matter. 
The  lowest  price  was  £500  for  a  black  marc,  and  Violetta 
told  Peter  contemptuously  she  wouldn't  have  her  at 
a  gift 

"  I  dunno  but  what  you're  right,"  said  the  trainer. 
"  She  might  be  the  mother  of  a  good  horse,  but  she's 
no  good  herself.  I'm  afeard,  Miss  Violetta,  we  can't 
strike  a  bargain." 

"  I'll  have  to  look  out  for  a  cab  horse  of  good  blood 
and  fast,  but  with  a  little  vice  which  I  should  have  to 
cure  him  of,"  returned  Violetta  jestingly. 

"  I've  heard  of  such  wonders,  but  never  see  one. 
Well,  I  suppose  we'd  better  return  to  the  house." 

"  What's  in  that  farther  stable  ?  Sounds  like  a 
kicker." 

At  that  moment  came  a  violent  thud  against  the 
woodwork. 

"  Kicker's  right.  He's  a  beast.  Can't  do  nothing 
with  him.  If  I  could  there  wouldn't  be  a  horse  in  the 
stables  as  'tid  beat  him." 

"  May  I  look  at  the  brute  ?  " 

The  stable  was  the  last  of  a  series.  The  door  was 
the  usual  half  one,  and  Violetta  looked  through  the 
upper  open  portion. 

"  Don't  go  too  near,  Miss,"  warned  Peter.  "  There's 
no  knowing  what  he'll  do  when  he's  in  a  bad  temper. 
How's  Belphegor  been  behaving  this  morning, 
Simmons  ?  " 

"  A  bit  ratty,  sir.     Misses  the  boy,  I  reckon." 

"  That  lad  you  think  of  taking  on,  Miss  Vaughan,  was 
the  only  one  in  the  place  as  could  do  anything  with 
him." 


A    QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  119 

"  RealJy  ?  What  are  you  going  to  do  now  the  boy's 
gone  ?  " 

"  That's  a  bit  of  a  puzzle.  He  hasn't  been  rubbed 
down  since  yesterday  morning,  has  he,  Simmons  ?  " 

"  No,   sir.     Not  any  of  us  dursn't  go  nigh  him. 
Hasn't  been  out  neither.     We  thought  as  there  might 
be  a  bother  to  get  him  in  again.     Sometimes  he  won't 
look  at  his  stable.     Tim  allays  had  to  coax  him  and 
sometimes  it  took  him  an  hour." 

Violetta  stood  silently  watching  the  animal  and 
taking  in  his  points.  He  was  a  light  chestnut  with 
a  white  streak  down  his  nose,  a  combination  which 
gave  him  a  vicious  aspect,  which  was  probably  added  to 
by  the  furtive  look  in  his  big  eyes.  He  was  not  a 
handsome  horse,  but  was  enormously  developed  in 
all  the  muscles  which  make  for  speed  and  strength. 

"  He  ought  to  be  a  good  stayer,"  said  Violetta. 

"  That's  right,  miss  ;  but  who's  to  tell  ?  He's  never 
yet  been  fully  extended.  We  did  have  one  trial  with 
young  Hollis  on  his  back,  and  none  of  the  others  had 
a  look  in.  Even  then  he  didn't  show  what  he  could  do 
when  put  to  it." 

Belphegor  clearly  didn't  like  the  little  crowd  staring 
at  him.  His  ears  were  laid  back,  and  his  fore  feet  firmly 
planted.  Then  he  gave  an  impatient  stamp,  pawed 
the  ground,  two  or  three  times  and  wheeled  round  with 
a  nervous  switching  of  the  tail. 

"  Lend  me  your  crop,  Simmons,"  said  Violetta. 

The  groom  was  holding  a  hunting  crop,  which  he 
handed  over  hesitatingly  and  with  a  glance  at  the 
trainer. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Miss  Vaughan  ?  "  cried 
Peter,  as  Violetta  laid  her  hand  on  the  bolt  of  the  half 
door  and  shot  it  back. 

"  Going  into  the  stable,"  said  she,  smilingly. 

"  Not  with  my  consent.  I  tell  you  straight  you're 
running  a  terrible  risk.  You  don't  know  what  the 
beast  is  like." 


120          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADt>OCtf 

"  Exactly.  I  want  to  satisfy  myself.  It's  a  woman's 
nature  to  be  curious." 

"  That  may  be,  and  she  sometimes  suffers  for  it. 
What  about  Bluebeard's  wives  ?  " 

"  Bluebeard's  wives  don't  concern  me.  I'm  nobody's 
wife." 

By  this  time  the  bolt  was  drawn  back,  and  before 
Peter  Gumley  could  prevent  her,  she  was  a  couple  of 
feet  inside  the  stable.  The  trainer  and  the  groom 
were  about  to  follow  her,  but  Violetta  imperiously 
waved  them  back. 

"  If  you  don't  want  me  to  come  to  harm  you'll  leave 
me  alone  and  stay  outside." 

"  Mercy  on  us,  you  don't  seem  to  care,"  cried  the 
trainer,  adding  to  himself,  "  but  she's  right  after  all. 
Well,  well,  good  luck  go  with  her." 

So  they  waited  wonderingly  while  Violetta  advanced 
another  couple  of  paces,  calling  out  softly  to  Simmons 
as  she  did  so  to  shut  the  door  behind  her  and  to  keep 
out  of  view.  She  strongly  suspected  that  the  horse 
had  his  reasons  for  disliking  the  groom. 

Violetta  advanced  no  further,  but  stood  still  as  a 
statue  while  feeling  in  her  pocket  for  sugar.  She 
knew  quite  well  that  whether  with  animals  or  birds 
it  is  movement  on  the  part  of  a  human  being  which 
startles  them  and  excites  their  distrust.  She  had 
tested  the  accuracy  of  this  belief,  so  far  as  birds  and 
squirrels  w*ere  concerned,  many  times  in  Fontainbleu 
forest  and  in  the  woods  at  Nice. 

Belphegor  condescended  to  look  at  her.  Neither  his 
demeanour  nor  his  attitude  was  quite  so  hostile.  He 
stamped  his  foot  once  or  twice,  but  he  did  not  bring 
his  hoof  down  so  savagely  as  before. 

"  Come  along,  old  chap  "  said  Violetta,  softly  and 
caressingly. 

The  horse  was  still  suspicious,  but  he  was,  at  the 
same  time,  curious.  He  wanted  to  decide  whether 
she  was  a  friend  or  an  enemy.  Had  she  moved,  the 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          121 

spell  she  had  begun  to  exercise  would  have  been  broken. 
She  was  in  no  hurry,  and  did  not  attempt  to  do  more 
than  talk  to  the  horse  softly  and  soothingly.  In  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  Belphegor,  his  ears  perfectly  normal, 
advanced  slowly  towards  her.  She  waited  quietly. 
He  rubbed  his  nose  against  her  arm,  and  she  patted 
his  neck  and  stroked  his  crest.  It  was  a  sort  of  massage 
and  evidently  to  Belphegor's  taste. 

Violetta  did  not  believe  in  whispering  some  kind  of 
shibboleth  in  the  horse's  ear — a  performance  which 
some  horse  trainers  used  to  go  through,  but  in  which 
there  is  really  nothing,  so  far  as  the  shibboleth  is  con- 
cerned. She  whispered,  it  is  true,  but  what  she  said 
was  much  the  same  as  before,  just  a  few  petting  words, 
and  she  breathed  in  his  nose.  Then  came  the  sugar. 
This  completed  the  conquest. 

Just  to  show  she  had  quite  won  the  affections  of 
the  horse,  she  went  on  to  coax  him  into  the  stall  to 
which  she  had  been  told  he  had  at  times  a  strong 
objection,  and  of  which  a  proof  was  pretty  plain  in 
the  shattered  boards  on  one  side.  This  she  effected 
by  rubbing  his  side  and  flank  with  the  handle  end  of  a 
hunting  crop.  He  moved  under  the  feel  and  pressure 
of  the  crop  in  the  direction  she  wanted,  and  at  length 
she  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  in  his  stall  quite 
quiet  and  contented.  He  even  allowed  her  to  tie  him 
up.  Then  she  returned  to  the  door,  the  horse  looking 
after  her.  The  whole  operation  had  occupied  about 
an  hour. 

"  By  the  lord,  Miss  Violetta,  if  you  bean't  a  wonder," 
cried  the  trainer.  "  What  do  you  think  o'  that, 
Simmons  ?  " 

"  I  dunno  what  to  think,  master.  If  I  hadn't  seen 
it  I  wouldn't  ha'  believed  it.  What  about  giving  him 
a  rub  down  now  he's  in  a  good  temper  ?  " 

"  Don't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  Violetta  cut  in 
imperatively.  "  I  wouldn't  answer  for  his  behaviour 
with  anybody  but  myself  or  with  the  lad  you've  got 


122          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

rid  of.  Leave  him  alone  for  a  bit.  Mr.  Gumley,  I'd 
like  to  have  a  talk  with  you  about  Belphegor." 

"  It's  just  this,"  said  she,  when  the}'  were  alone. 
"  I've  a  fancy  for  buying  that  horse.  He's  no  good 
to  the  owner  as  he  is.  None  of  your  men  can  be  trusted 
to  touch  him,  and  he's  only  eating  his  head  off.  What 
do  you  think  would  be  a  fair  sum  ?  " 

"  I  daresay  I  could  get  him  for  £150." 

"  Too  much.     A  hundred's  my  figure." 

"  An'  he  stood  me  in  at  £550.  Fact  is,  Miss  Vaughan, 
the  brute's  mine.  He  comes  from  a  good  stock — 
Mountebank,  out  o'  Cutty  Sark,  and  I  bought  him 
a  thinking  as  I  could  break  him  in.  An'  so  I  should 
ha'  done  if  that  urchin  Tim  hadn't  played  me  false. 
Tell  ye  what,  miss,  you  shall  have  him  for  £100  and 
you  give  me  20  per  cent,  on  all  his  winnings  for  the 
next  three  years." 

"  Done,  Mr.  Gumley.  Draw  out  a  little  memorandum 
and  I'll  take  away  Belphegor  at  once." 

"  The  devil  you  will.     How  are  you  going  to  do  it  ?" 

"  On  his  back,  of  course." 

"  Then  I  hope  as  your  life's  insured.  I  may  tell 
'ee  it's  all  a  job  to  saddle  him." 

"  I  expect  so.     Anyhow,  I'll  tackle  it." 

Peter  wrote  out  a  memorandum  of  the  sale  and  its 
conditions.  Violetta,  who  had  made  up  her  mind 
that  she  was  going  to  buy  something  and  had  come 
prepared,  gave  him  a  cheque  and  the  transaction  was 
completed. 

"  Before  we  go  any  further,  Mr.  Gumley,  just  tell 
me  the  real  reason  why  you  got  rid  of  Tim  Hollis  and 
what  you  mean  by  saying  that  he  played  you  false  ?  " 

"  On  the  strict  q.t,  then,  miss,  I  feel  satisfied  he's 
been  got  at  by  a  gang.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  I've 
the  favourites  for  the  Two  Thou,  and  Derby  in  hand, 
an'  knowing  what  I  do  know,  I've  got  to  guard  'em 
like  the  apple  of  my  eye." 

"  Who's  the  leader  of  the  gang — George  Godfree  ?  " 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          123 

"  Aye.     You've  hit  it  fust  go." 

"I've  heard  that  Godfree  was  at  the  bottom  of  Sir 
John  Norman's  losses.  But  wasn't  there  someone 
else  behind  him  ?  " 

"  That's  so.  You  know  a  lot,  so  I  may  as  well  speak 
out.  The  man  who  pulled  the  wires  was  Dan  Westoby. 
I  don't  'xactly  know  the  rights  of  the  story,  but  it 
seems  as  Sir  John  Norman  and  Westoby  quarrelled, 
years  ago.  Sir  John  got  the  best  of  it,  whatever  it  was 
and  Westoby  swore  to  get  his  own  back  an'  I  guess 
he  did  it.  It's  him  as  owns  Normanhurst  now." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Violetta  drily.  "  I'm  glad 
you've  told  me  this.  By  the  way,  don't  let  anybody 
know  you've  sold  Belphegor  to  me.  Just  for  the  time 
being  I  shall  lie  low  and  watch  the  horse.  No  one 
will  suspect  what  I'm  doing  at  the  Owl's  Nest.  It's 
about  the  last  place  in  the  world,  I  suppose,  where  one 
would  train  a  racer." 

"  You're  right  there.  You  may  trust  me  and  Simmons 
too.  You've  made  up  your  mind  then  to  take  on 
young  Tim  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  can't  do  without  him.  What  about  saddling 
Belphegor  ?  " 

"  You'd  better  have  a  snack  o'  lunch  first.  It  may 
take  you  an  hour  or  more  to  saddle  him,  and  you'll 
want  summat  to  work  on." 

Violetta  agreed  that  the  idea  wasn't  a  bad  one,  and 
shortly  after  she  was  sitting  down  with  the  trainer 
and  his  wife  before  a  cold  Surrey  chicken  and  a  prime 
Yorkshire  ham.  When  the  meal  was  finished,  she 
went  back  with  Peter  to  the  stables.  She  stipulated 
that  she  was  to  be  left  to  herself,  and  the  trainer  agreed. 
He  brought  her  a  side  saddle  at  which  she  laughed. 

"  That's  no  good.  I  wouldn't  trust  myself  in  a 
woman's  saddle  on  the  back  of  a  horse  like  Belphegor." 

"  What !     D'ye  want  a  man's  saddle  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     Haven't  I  dressed  myself  for  the  part  ?  " 

Peter  Gurnley  was  a  little  old-fashioned  in  his  notions. 


124          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

He  knew  perfectly  well  that  riding  straddle-legged  was 
coming  into  favour  with  horsewomen,  but  he  did  not 
countenance  it.  However,  he  was  not  going  to  con- 
tradict Violetta,  who  he  could  see  was  bound  to  do 
as  she  liked,  and  with  a  shake  of  the  head  he  brought 
her  a  man's  saddle,  with  which  she  went  into  the  stable. 

Belphcgor  looked  round  at  the  sound  of  the  door 
opening,  and  at  first  showed  signs  of  uneasiness,  but 
he  must  have  recognised  Violetta,  for  he  let  her  come 
quite  close  to  him.  She  patted  and  rubbed  his  neck 
and  let  him  see  the  saddle  and  touch  it  with  his  nose 
and  smell  it.  She  was  not  in  the  slightest  hurry,  and 
every  step  to  familiarise  the  animal  with  the  saddle 
was  done  with  the  greatest  deliberation.  Then  she 
patted  his  back,  and  in  a  way  went  through  a  form 
of  massage  just  where  the  saddle  would  rest,  and  in 
due  time  when  she  judged  the  opportunity  had  come 
she  gently  placed  the  saddle  upon  him.  He  did  not 
show  the  slightest  objection,  and  cautiously  she  fastened 
and  tightened  the  girth  but  only  by  degrees. 

Saddling  had  to  be  followed  by  putting  on  the  bridle, 
and  this  also  was  done  without  much  trouble.  The 
next  thing  was  to  get  the  horse  accustomed  to  the  new 
feeling,  and  with  her  arm  resting  on  the  saddle  she 
walked  him  slowly  about  the  stable.  It  was  over  an 
hour  before  she  was  sufficiently  satisfied  it  was  safe  to 
mount  him,  and  the  stable  being  of  considerable  height, 
she  was  able  to  do  this  inside. 

Then  she  called  out  to  Peter  to  open  the  door,  and 
she  rode  out  looking  as  gallant  a  horsewoman  as  one 
could  wish  to  see.  The  trainer  was  forced  to  express 
his  admiration. 

"  But  lor,  miss,  there's  some  o'  you  women  as  looks 
a  picture,  no  matter  what  you  do  or  wear,  and  I'm 
danged  if  you're  not  one  of  'em." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Gumley.  You'll  let  me  come 
and  see  you  again,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  like,  Miss  Violetta.     You'll  always 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  125 

be  welcome.  Besides,  I  shall  be  anxious  to  know  how 
Belphegor's  behaving.  If  you  goes  on  with  him  as 
you've  begun,  I  may  make  a  bit  of  money.  Who 
knows  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so.  But  you'll  have  to  come  to  the  Owl's 
Nest.  I  shall  want  to  consult  you." 

"  Right  y'are.     Only  too  pleased." 

Violetta  raised  the  whip  she  had  borrowed  in  token 
of  farewell,  and  rode  away  at  a  gentle  canter.  The 
horse  moved  with  a  delightfully  easy  free  action,  and 
she  could  even  fancy  that  he  was  pleased  to  get  away 
from  the  trainer's  quarters.  It  was  probable  this  was 
so,  for  Violetta  learned  afterwards  that  nearly  all  the 
men  at  the  stables  had  had  a  go  at  taming  Belphegor, 
and  the  notions  of  the  majority  were  based  on  cruelty 
and  fatigue  to  break  the  horse's  spirit.  These  attempts 
had  been  hopeless  failures. 

The  journey  to  the  Owl's  Nest,  not  excepting  the 
broken  winding  ascending  road  to  the  house,  was  covered 
without  any  mishap.  The  way  was  lonely,  and  out 
of  the  beaten  track,  and  nothing  like  a  car  or  a  motor 
cycle  was  encountered.  Despite  her  success,  Violetta 
was  glad  when  she  had  Belphegor  safely  in  the  stable 
she  had  had  prepared  for  her  first  purchase.  The  horse 
was  still  highly  nervous,  and  she  wanted  him  to  get 
thoroughly  used  to  her  before  she  would  trust  him 
anywhere. 

Violetta  had  a  long  rest,  for  her  work  with  Belphegor 
had  been  very  exhausting.  She  was  lying  down  in  the 
evening  thinking  over  things  when  Mrs.  Stubbles,  the 
brawny  poultry  maid,  housemaid  and  cook,  and  "  general 
utility  "  domestic  announced  the  arrival  of  a  lad. 

"  Says,  miss,  as  you  told  him  to  call." 

"  Quite  right,  Stubbles.     Show  him  in  here." 

Directly  she  was  alone,  Violetta  rose  and  placed  a 
chair  near  the  standard  floor  lamp,  so  that  the  light 
from  the  latter  should  fall  upon  it,  and  resumed  her 
recumbent  position  on  the  couch, 


126          A    QUEEN  OF   THE    PADDOCK 

Tim  Hollis  shuffled  into  the  room  in  a  shy,  shambling 
fashion,  and  stood  awkwardly,  cap  in  hand,  his  eyes 
lost  in  wonder  at  the  vision  of  beauty  on  the  couch. 
He  hadn't  ceased  to  think  about  her  ever  since  she 
spoke  to  him  in  the  road.  Provokingly  charming  as 
she  was  in  her  semi-masculine  attire,  she  was  still  more 
so,  though  in  a  different  way,  now  that  she  had  gone 
back  to  her  woman's  dress. 

It  amused  Violetta  and  flattered  her  to  see  the  lad's 
confusion. 

"  Sit  down,  Tim,"  said  she,  pointing  to  the  chair 
under  the  lamp. 

He  obeyed,  his  freckled  face  reddening  to  the  roots 
of  his  hair.  Where  he  was  sitting  she  could  study  his 
expression  and  tell  whether  he  was  speaking  the  truth. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  since  I  saw  you  ?  " 
said  she. 

"  Nothing,  miss." 

"  That's  no  answer.  How  have  you  been  passing 
the  time  ?  " 

"  Walking  about  over  the  downs." 

"  Have  you  come  across  any  of  your  friends — I  don't 
mean  any  of  Gumley's  men.  Friends  from  London. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

Tim  did  understand.  He  saw  that  the  beautiful 
lady  knew  something  and  was  not  to  be  taken  in.  His 
colour  fled,  and  he  fingered  the  buttons  on  his  jacket 
nervously. 

"  I  ain't  got  any  friends  in  London,"  he  mumbled. 

"  Look  here,  Tim,  whether  I  take  you  on  depends 
upon  you  speaking  the  truth." 

"  It  is  the  truth,  miss,  I'm  a  telling  you,  s'elp  me. 
I  do  know  one  or  two  chaps  as  live  in  London,  but  I 
don't  call  'em  friends." 

"  They've  given  you  money,  haven't  they  ?  " 

"  Just  a  bob  or  two." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  Only  for  talking  a  bit." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  127 

"  About  Peter  Gumley's  horses  ?  " 

"  They  was  allays  asking  questions  an'  a  bothering 
me." 

"  You  needn't  have  answered.  You  could  have 
told  them  to  go  to  Jericho.  Why  did  you  give  away 
your  master's  secrets  ?  It  wasn't  playing  the  game  " 

"  I  know  it  warn't.     Anyhow,  I  didn't  tell  'em  much." 

"  You  oughtn't  to  have  told  anything.  What  wras 
your  grudge  against  Mr  Gumley  ?  " 

Tim  did  not  answer  for  a  few  seconds.  Then  he  burst 
out : 

"  He  wouldn't  let  me  have  a  chance  with  Bclphegor. 
I  told  him  as  the  horse  was  the  best  two-year-old  going, 
but  he  wouldn't  trust  me  on  him.  He  put  Jack  Parsons 
up  once  and  Jack  was  throwed  like  a  shuttlecock  and 
broke  his  leg,  and  Jack's  the  best  rider  in  the  stables. 
For  all  that,  Jack  rode  him  at  the  A. P.  Spring  Meeting 
an'  nigh  pulled  it  off.  I  love  that  horse,  miss.  We're 
like  two  pals,  an'  I  wanted  him  at  the  top  of  the  tree. 
When  I  see  as  Peter  was  dead  set  against  him  I  s'pose 
I  did  have  a  drop  now  and  again,  an'  it  was  then  that 
Barney  Moss  got  at  me.  You  can't  drink  for  nothing 
nowadays.  P'raps  Peter  didn't  tell  you  as  he  give  me 
the  sack  about  two  months  ago  and  took  me  on  again  ?  " 

"  No,  he  didn't.     How  was  that  ?  " 

"  It  was  this  way.  I'd  been  a  lifting  the  right  arm 
too  much — was  a  bit  boozed,  you  know — an'  he  said 
he'd  have  no  more  of  it  an'  off  I  went.  Well,  I  got 
worritted  over  Belphegor.  I  knew  as  he  wouldn't  get 
his  food  property.  None  of  the  others  durst  go  nigh 
him,  and  so  the  next  night  I  climbs  over  the  fence  to 
look  after  him.  He  knowed  me  fast  enough,  and  he 
made  a  noise  that  woke  up  Simmons  and  afore  I  could 
do  a  bunk  I  was  collared,  an' — what  d'ye  think  ? — 
accused  of  burgling  !  " 

"  But  surely  you  explained  why  were  you  in  the 
stables  ?  " 

"  Ra.-ther.    Then  Simmons,  as  hates  me  like  pi-son, 


128          A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

shifted  his  ground.  He  swore  that  if  it  wasn't  burglary 
I  was  getting  at  it  was  something  worse — tampering 
with  some  of  the  horses.  Old  Peter  wouldn't  believe 
it,  of  me,  and  when  the  missus  stuck  up  for  me  and  said 
I'd  done  the  right  thing  by  Belphegor,  he  took  me  back. 
But  the  rest  of  the  stable  was  all  against  me.  Things 
went  from  bad  to  worse,  and  then  I  got  kicked  out  for 
good.  I  don't  care  so  much  about  that.  What's 
bothering  me  is  what'll  become  of  Belphegor." 

"  I  think  I  can  help  you  there,  Tim,"  said  Violetta, 
rising  from  the  couch.  "  Come  with  me." 

She  was  fully  convinced  that  Tim  had  spoken  the 
truth,  and  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  a 
wonderful  stroke  of  luck  which  had  caused  her  to  en- 
counter him  at  the  right  moment. 

Leading  the  way  to  the  outbuildings  she  unhooked 
a  lantern,  lighted  it,  and  softly  opened  the  stable  door. 

No  sooner  did  Tim  set  eyes  on  the  horse  than  he  shook 
from  head  to  foot. 

"  T'aint  him,"  Violetta  heard  him  mutter.  "  Can't 
be.  Yet  t'aint  his  ghost  either.  I  dunno " 

Belphegor  had  turned  his  head  and  had  made  a  little 
snorting  sound  that  Tim  knew  well  enough.  The  next 
moment  he  was  by  the  horse,  his  arms  round  its  neck 
and  Belphegor  was  rubbing  his  nose  against  the  lad's 
sleeve. 

Violetta  never  uttered  a  word.  She  understood  Tim's 
feelings  and  respected  his  emotion.  Under  similar 
circumstances  she  would  have  acted  in  much  the  same 
manner — shed  a  tear  or  two. 

"  He  knows  me,  he  do.  See,  Miss  ?  "  burst  out  Tim. 
"  But  it  beats  me  to  find  him  here." 

"  I've  bought  Belphegor,  Tim,  and  you  can  stay  and 
look  after  him  so  long  as  you  behave  yourself  and  are 
true  to  me." 

"  True  to  you,  miss.  I'd  fight  for  you  to  the  last 
drop  o'  my  blood,"  said  Tim,  amid  his  blubbering. 

"  That's  enough,  Tim,     I  believe  you.     After  you've 


I2Q 

said  all  you  want  to  say  to  Belphegor  go  to  Mrs.  Stubbles. 
She'll  look  after  you  and  give  you  some  supper.  Be 
nice  to  her.  She's  one  of  the  best.  Perhaps  you'd  like 
to  have  a  shake  down  in  the  stable  along  with  your  pet." 

"  That  I  should,  miss." 

"  Good.    Then  you  know  what  to  do." 

And  Violetta  tripped  away,  leaving  Tim  in  a  state  of 
mind  best  described  by  his  not  knowing  whether  he 
was  on  his  head  or  his  heels. 


"  FM  YOUR  WIFE,  JACK  " 

WHILE  Violetta  was  engrossed  with  her  preparations 
at  the  Owl's  Nest  Norman  was  eating  his  heart  out  over 
his  difficulties  and  chafing  incessantly  because  he  could 
not  see  a  way  of  escape, 

Ella  at  times  irritated  him  beyond  endurance  and 
they  were  nearer  bitter  quarrels  than  they  had  been  at 
any  time  of  their  lives.  When  she  was  upset  his  sister 
talked  violently  and  at  random,  and  when  she  criticised 
Violetta,  which  she  insisted  upon  doing,  it  was  hard  to 
say  whether  she  was  pleased  or  annoyed  at  her  visitor's 
sudden  departure.  It  seemed  to  Norman  pretty  certain 
that  friendship  between  the  two  women  was  at  an  end 
and  that  there  was  little  chance  of  a  reconciliation. 

But  did  this  matter,  seeing  that  he  had  bound  himself 
hand  and  foot  by  his  fatal  marriage  with  a  woman  of 
doubtful  reputation  ?  Looking  back  he  could  not 
explain  to  himself  how  he  came  to  be  so  foolish.  But  a 
student  of  human  nature  knowing  the  circumstances  and 
acquainted  with  Norman's  temperament  and  the  skilled 
devices  which  Christine  had  at  her  command  to  attract 
men,  would  have  had  no  difficulty  in  solving  the  problem. 

J 


130          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

It  was  really  a  reaction  from  the  enforced  monotony  of 
years  which  had  caused  the  poor  man  to  shake  off  his 
placid  and  uneventful  country  surroundings  and  plunge 
into  the  feverish  gaiety  of  smart  society  life  in  London. 
This  reaction  had  been  brought  about  by  the  death  of 
his  wife  and  the  unaccustomed  feeling  of  freedom  which 
had  followed. 

In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  sowing  of  wild  oats  does 
no  lasting  harm  to  a  young  man.  They  are  generally 
the  effect  of  high  spirits  and  exuberant  vitality.  In 
youth  everything  in  life  is  fresh  and  delightful,  and 
especially  our  follies.  But  in  the  thirties  and  forties 
things  are  different.  Women  to  middle-aged  men  are 
not  as  they  appear  to  men  just  past  their  adolescence. 
Adonis  in  the  insolence  of  his  manhood  will  make  love 
to  all  women  who  come  his  way  and  throw  them  aside 
with  equal  facility.  And  the  marvel  is  that  women 
forgive  his  fickleness.  But  let  him  be  past  thirty.  He 
is  less  cruel  and  more  constant  than  a  young  man ;  he 
takes  himself  seriously  and,  what  is  worse,  women  take 
him  seriously.  "  He's  old  enough  to  know  his  own 
mind,"  is  what  they  think,  but  is  any  man  old  enough 
for  this  knowledge  where  a  woman  is  concerned  ? 

The  tragic  part  of  the  business  is  that  often  times  a 
middle-aged  man,  after  imagining  his  mind  is  made  up 
and  finding  he  is  mistaken,  has  not  the  courage  to  tell 
the  woman  so,  and  he  drifts  into  a  position  from  which 
he  discovers  it  is  impossible  to  extricate  himself  without 
appearing  wholly  in  the  wrong  and  horribly  unjust  and 
unfair  to  the  wife. 

It  is  not  the  depraved  or  dissipated  who  blunder  in 
this  way,  but  the  man  of  honour,  the  man  of  good 
intentions,  and  Sir  John  Norman  answered  to  both. 
In  addition,  whether  from  lack  of  experience  or  from 
his  own  nature,  Norman  always  believed  the  best  of 
everyone.  So  when  he  ran  across  George  Godfree  he 
was  genuinely  glad  to  see  him  and  looked  charitably  on 
the  fact  that  Godfree  had  been  sent  down  from  his 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  131 

college  under  decidedly  discreditable  circumstances.  He 
Wasn't  blind  to  Godfree's  deterioration,  but  this  made 
him  the  more  kindly  disposed  towards  him.  The  last 
thing  he  suspected  was  that  the  friend  of  his  youth  was 
deliberately  setting  himself  to  work  his  ruin. 

It  was  not  that  Godfree  had  any  grudge  against  Nor- 
man. Indeed,  he  would  have  preferred  to  "  operate  " 
upon  someone  else,  but  the  opportunity  had  come  and 
he  justified  his  treachery  by  the  argument  that  if  ho 
didn't  feather  his  nest  by  plucking  Norman  somebody 
else  would.  Godfree,  in  truth,  belonged  to  that  variety 
of  rascal  who  cannot  come  into  contact  with  anybody 
with  more  money  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with  than  he 
schemes  to  get  it.  Godfree,  like  hosts  of  others  more 
or  less  connected  with  the  turf,  lived  on  the  capture  of 
"  mugs."  And  he  had  not  lunched  and  dined  and  gone 
to  night  clubs  of  a  more  or  less  questionable  character 
with  Norman  half-a-dozen  times  before  he  decided  that 
his  newly-found  friend  was  a  "  mug "  of  the  most 
malleable  type.  Godfree  had  a  soft  job,  and  he  made  the 
most  of  it  with  the  aid  of  Christine  Davenport,  intro- 
duced to  Norman  as  a  rich  American  widow.  Her 
wealth  existed  only  in  imagination,  as  Norman  was 
destined  to  discover. 

It  may  at  least  be  said  in  justice  to  Godfree  that 
Norman's  marriage  with  Christine  was  not  in  his  pro- 
gramme. Mrs.  Davenport,  however,  took  the  reins  in 
her  own  hands.  Norman  was  dazzled,  bewildered  by 
her  fascinations,  assisted  by  a  round  of  riotous  gaiety, 
and  woke  up  from  his  spell  to  find  himself  united  to  a 
lady  with  expensive  tastes  and  a  mania  for  betting  and 
gambling,  with  no  money  of  her  own  and  bent  only  upon 
spending  her  husband's.  The  result  was  inevitable. 
When  the  crash  came,  and  no  more  coin  was  forthcoming, 
she  disappeared. 

One  of  the  effects  of  Norman's  disastrous  experience 
of  life  in  London  was  to  bring  about  an  intense  loathing 
of  everything  connected  with  the  turf.  It  was  the  turf 


132          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

which  had  led  him  to  be  the  prey  of  Godfree  and  his 
brother  sharpers.  Excepting  for  the  turf  he  never 
would  have  been  the  dupe  of  an  unscrupulous  woman 
who  promised  to  be  a  burden  to  him  all  her  life,  but  so 
long  as  she  was  quiet  and  did  not  trouble  him  he  resolved 
not  to  worry,  and  he  tried  to  forget  her  existence. 

Then  Violetta  came  upon  the  scene.  She  had  during 
her  visit  to  Normanhurst  strongly  impressed  him  and 
he  was  only  too  pleased  to  renew  the  acquaintance  at 
Thameside.  His  relations  with  women  had  been  very 
unfortunate  and  he  thought  he  saw  in  Violetta  all  that 
was  desirable  and  all  that  would  compensate  him  for 
his  ill  luck.  And  then  the  spectre  of  his  wife  intruded 
itself.  What  was  the  use  of  indulging  in  dreams  which 
could  never  be  realised  while  Christine  was  tied  to  him  ? 
The  thought  had  never  been  absent  from  his  mind  while 
enjoying  Violetta's  society,  and  when  the  spectre  sud- 
denly materialised  and  presented  itself  in  flesh  and  blood 
he  felt  overwhelmed  and  helpless. 

There  was,  of  course,  one  way  out  of  the  difficulty — 
divorce.  He  had  discovered  enough  about  Christine 
to  feel  pretty  sure  that  he  would  not  have  much  difficulty 
in  getting  evidence.  But  he  dreaded  the  scandal. 
He  also  dreaded  the  employment  of  a  private  detective, 
the  sordid  details,  the  gossip  of  hotel  servants  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  miserable  procedure.  And  supposing  he 
obtained  freedom,  what  then  ?  Would  it  help  him 
to  win  Violetta  ?  Would  she  marry  a  man  who  had 
made  such  an  utter  fool  of  himself  ? 

But  in  the  meantime  it  was  very  plain  that  he  must 
find  out  what  his  wife  intended.  It  could  not  be  from 
affection  that  she  had  sprung  herself  upon  him.  He 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  must  have  a  personal 
interview  with  her.  It  was  not  safe  to  write.  Besides, 
what  with  I.O.U.'s  the  accepting  of  bills,  deeds  of 
mortgage,  loans  and  what  not,  he  had  had  enough 
of  putting  his  name  to  paper. 

The  difficulty  was  solved  by  the  reception  of  a  tele- 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  133 

gram.  "  Meet  me  at  the  Cafe  Nice  at  one  to-day, 
Christine,"  it  ran.  Whether  he  liked  it  or  not,  he 
would  have  to  go. 

The  cafe  was  crowded.  Looking  to  the  right  and  left 
he  walked  slowly  along  the  gangway  between  the 
narrow  line  of  tables  at  the  side  and  those  in  the  centre. 
He  saw  the  lady  sitting  at  the  far  end.  She  had  reserved 
a  seat  for  him.  His  distaste  for  the  interview  was  in- 
creased by  the  way  in  which  she  was  dressed.  The 
fashion  was  of  the  latest ;  the  colours  terribly  obtrusive. 
He  shuddered  at  the  obvious  way  in  which  his  wife — 
Ms  wife — had  set  herself  to  be  looked  at.  She  put 
away  the  little  mirror  and  the  diminutive  powder 
puff  when  her  eyes  met  his,  and  she  greeted  him  with 
a  soft  giggle  which  showed  all  her  teeth. 

"  I  was  sure  you'd  come,  dear  boy.  I'll  leave  you 
to  order  our  luricn.  You  always  do  it  so  nicely." 

The  "  our  "  jarred  upon  him,  as  it  was  probably  meant 
to  do.  She  had  laid  such  emphasis  upon  the  pronoun. 
He  made  no  reply,  but  glanced  at  the  menu  and  had  a 
brief  consultation  with  one  of  the  ineffable  beings  who 
always  have  smiles  at  their  command.  Christine  was 
evidently  known  at  the  Cafe*  Nice.  She  chatted  affably 
to  the  ineffable  one  who  having  written  down  Norman's 
order,  transmitted  it  to  one  of  his  subordinates  to 
execute. 

"  What  about  an  appetiser  ?  I'm  drinking  gin  and 
angostura.  Have  one  with  me  just  to  show  there's 
no  ill-feeling." 

"  No,  thanks." 

"  How  awfully  uppish.  Don't  put  me  out.  I've 
come  in  the  best  of  humours.  I  can  soon  be  ratty — if 
you  prefer  it." 

Norman  hardly  wanted  telling.  He  judged  it  better 
to  order  the  aperitij. 

"  Don't  you  think  I've  been  jolly  good  to  let  you 
alone  for  a  clear  three  weeks  ?  It's  quite  that  since 
I  descended  upon  you  at  Thames-side." 


134          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  You  were  always  very  considerate.  May  I  ask 
the  reason  of  your  seeking  me  out  ?  You  went  off 
without  a  word,  six  months  ago,  and  if  I  remember 
rightly  you  took  all  the  money  you  could  find  in  the 
place." 

"  And  precious  little  there  was.  It  was  a  clean  scoop, 
anyhow,  but  I'd  a  right  to  it.  I'm  your  wife,  Jack." 

"  Jack  "  always  sounded  horrible  on  Christine's  lips. 
Norman  winced. 

"  I  don't  forget  the  unhappy  fact.  But  having  gone, 
why  the  deuce  didn't  you  stay  away  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  a  wife  has  the  right  to  see  her  husband 
if  she  wants  to." 

"  And  apparently  to  leave  him  when  the  whim  strikes 
her." 

"  Well,  yes,  but  a  whim  isn't  always  the  cause. 
Now "  ' 

Her  reply  was  cut  short  by  the  waiter  depositing 
a  dish  on  the  table.  Nothing  was  said  for  a  minute 
or  two.  The  lady  was  blessed  with  a  good  appetite 
and  hors  d'ceuvre,  soup  and  filleted  sole  had  disappeared 
before  she  resumed  the  conversation.  Norman  ate 
slowly  and  without  any  relish. 

The  question  as  to  why  his  wife  had  run  him  to  earth 
was  still  unanswered.  Now  and  again  he  glanced  at 
her  and  decided  that  handsome  as  she  certainly  was, 
her  features  had  coarsened  and  her  figure  had  lost  a 
good  deal  of  its  elegance.  He  could  guess  the  cause. 
His  brief  experience  of  married  life  had  told  him  that 
champagne  and  liqueurs  had  for  her  too  strong  an 
attraction. 

Christine  was  the  type  of  Barbara  Villiers  as  repre- 
sented by  the  free  and  flattering  pencil  of  Lely.  But  her 
luxuriant  hair  was  of  a  golden  hue  too  pronounced  to 
be  natural  and  it  was  given  the  lie  by  her  dark  brows 
and  grey  eyes.  The  contrast,  however,  was  undeniably 
attractive  and  wonderful  piquancy  was  added  to  her 
face,  especially  when  she  laughed,  by  what  should  have 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  135 

been  a  defect,  but  which  somehow  was  not.  Her  left 
eyebrow  was  shorter,  by  nearly  half  an  inch,  than  the 
right.  Whether  this  difference  was  born  with  her  or 
had  been  caused  by  accident  was  of  no  consequence. 
There  it  was,  and  it  made  her  face  very  distinctive. 

She  had  chosen  champagne,  and  a  couple  of  glasses 
brought  a  provoking  sparkle  to  her  eyes. 

"  Whatever  my  faults  are,  Jack  dear,  you  must  own 
that  I've  always  been  frank  with  you.  You  were  under 
no  delusions  when  you  married  me.  You  oughtn't  to 
have  expected  I  could  live  otherwise  than  as  I'd  been 
accustomed  to.  When  you  came  to  grief  and  the 
supplies  stopped  I  did  the  best  thing  for  you  and  for 
myself  by  disappearing." 

"  No  doubt  you  were  ready  to  look  after  your  own 
interests." 

"  And  yours^too,  you  silly,  if  you'll  only  think.  If 
I'd  stopped  I  was  bound  to  run  you  into  debt.  As  it  is 
you  were  saved  no  end  of  trouble  and  worry." 

"  Admitting  that,  do  you  intend  to  go  on  providing 
for  yourself  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  can't  provide  for  me.  We  ought  to 
come  to  some  understanding,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  And  it  was  for  this  understanding  that  you  sought 
me  out  ?  " 

"  Well,  partly." 

Christine's  cool  impudence  exasperated  Norman  almost 
beyond  endurance,  but  his  equable  temperament  enabled 
him  to  maintain  his  self-control. 

"  Are  you  entitled  to  any  consideration  ?  You've 
made  no  secret  that  you  married  me  for  what  you 
could  get,  and  then,  because  my  means  were  exhausted 
— thanks  to  you  and  your  friends — you  ran  away.  You 
must  think  me  the  biggest  ass  in  creation  if  you  expect 
I'm  going  to  allow  you  a  single  penny.  To  begin  with, 
it  may  interest  you  to  know  that  if  anything  I'm  worse 
off  than  when  you  left  me." 

"  Rats.    You  Johnnies  can  always  find  coin  when 


136          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

you're  put  to  it,"  rejoined  the  lady,  contemptuously. 
"  Just  listen  to  me.  I'm  not  going  to  talk  sentiment ; 
I  don't  believe  in  it — that  kind  of  rot's  dead  nowadays 
— I  mean  business.'' 

"  Thanks.     I  prefer  it  so." 

"  You  do  ?  "  she  returned  hotly.  "  Then  you  shall 
have  it,  I  didn't  take  long  to  sum  you  up,  John 
Norman.  You're  a  bit  of  a  saint,  you  know.  You're 
awfully  careful  of  what  you  call  your  reputation.  It 
would  send  a  cold  shiver  through  you  to  know  you're 
being  talked  about  and  called  a  fool.  I  know  right 
enough  why  you  kept  your  marriage  with  me  a  secret. 
You  precious  soon  discovered  that  I  wasn't  the  sort  of 
woman  who'd  get  on  with  your  sister.  You  could  see 
that  I'd  have  the  cold  shoulder  from  your  highly  respect- 
able friends,  and  so  you  held  your  tongue." 

Christine  spoke  the  truth,  and  Norman  inwardly 
winced.  But  he  agreed  with  her  that  there  should  be 
no  sentiment  between  them  and  he  steeled  himself 
against  any  exhibition  of  weakness. 

"  You,  anyhow,  didn't  object  to  the  secrecy." 

"  Not  I.  Half  an  hour  of  your  set  as  your  wife  and 
I  should  be  bored  to  death.  As  for  my  crowd,  why 
should  they  care  whether  I  was  married  or  not  ? 
Marriage  wouldn't  make  many  of  them  any  better  than 
they  are.  But  to  you,  my  dear  chappie,  marriage  is 
a  sort  of  fetish  you  bow  down  to.  To  come  to  the  point. 
If  you  won't  allow  me  a  certain  sum — weekly,  monthly, 
quarterly,  I  don't  care  which — why  I  must  assert  my 
rights,  that's  all.  I  shall  come  back  to  you  as  your 
wife,  and  if  you  refuse  to  receive  me  I  shall  apply  for 
restitution  of  conjugal  rights.  I  don't  know  in  the 
least  what  it  means,  but  my  lawyer  says  it's  the  first 
step." 

"  Does  he  ?  I'm  afraid  you  haven't  told  him  all 
the  circumstances.  You'd  better  go  back  to  him  and 
explain  that  you  ran  away  from  me,  and  that  if  anybody 
was  entitled  to  those  rights,  it  was  myself.  But  I 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  137 

don't  intend  to  take  any  action  in  the  matter.  I  don't 
want  you  back  and  I  won't  have  you." 

Christine's  eyes  suddenly  blazed,  and  her  cheeks 
became  white,  save  where  the  artificial  colour  had  been 
applied.  With  her  white  tremulous  lips  she  was  fury 
personified. 

"  So  that  you  may  console  yourself  with  that  bit 
of  a  girl  you  took  for  a  joy  ride  !  I  understand." 

"  Indeed  you  don't.  As  for  the  "  bit  of  a  girl  "  I 
refuse  to  discuss  her  with  you,  "  rejoined  Norman, 
coldly. 

"  I'm  not  good  enough,  I  suppose.  Very  well.  I 
shan't  wait  for  the  rubbishy  conjugal  rights,  but  shall 
land  myself  on  you  whenever  I  think  I  will." 

"  That  means  war.  I  shall  face  whatever  you  choose 
to  do.  You  probably  won't  like  your  life  for  the  past 
six  months  dug  up." 

Norman's  unexpected  show  of  fight  sent  the  lady 
into  another  paroxysm  of  rage.  Her  shoulders  quivered 
and  her  foot  beat  a  tattoo.  It  was  very  clear  that  in 
spite  of  her  protestations  to  the  contrary,  she  was  as 
susceptible  to  sentiment  as  the  majority  of  her  sex. 
Norman  saw  quite  well  that  she  was  intensely  jealous 
and  that  hatred  of  Violetta  was  at  the  bottom  of  her 
threatened  campaign. 

"  My  life,"  she  burst  out.  "  What  about  yours  ? 
Two  can  play  at  the  game  of  divorce.  You  won't  get 
rid  of  me  so  easily  as  you  think,  my  lad." 

"  Very  well,  do  your  worst.  In  the  meantime,  is 
it  worth  while  continuing  this  luncheon  any  further  ? 
I  doubt  if  either  you  or  I  have  any  appetite  left.  Suppose 
I  call  for  the  bill.  Anyhow,  don't  let  me  interfere  with 
your  arrangements.  If  you  prefer  to  stay  longer,  pray 
do." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  condescension.  It  would  have 
been  more  to  the  purpose  if  you'd  ordered  another  half 
bottle  of  champagne." 

Norman   shrugged   his   shoulders,    beckoned   to   the 


13*          A 

waiter,  told  him  to  add  the  fresh  wine  to  the  bill  and 
bring  the  latter.  The  few  minutes  which  elapsed  before 
this  could  be  done  were  passed  in  utter  silence.  What- 
ever might  have  been  Christine's  sensations,  Norman's, 
at  all  events,  were  anything  but  enviable. 

The  bill  was  paid,  and  with  a  formal  bow  Norman 
was  about  to  rise  from  the  table  when  Christine  motioned 
him  to  stay.  He  complied,  but  remained  standing. 

"  Just  a  word  which  I  advise  you  to  remember," 
said  she  in  rasping  tones.  "  In  one  of  our  rows  over 
money  you  were  complimentary  enough  to  say  you 
hated  women  who  betted.  Is  that  your  opinion  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  stronger  than  ever." 

"  Have  you  asked  your  new  love  what  has  been  her 
experience  in  such  matters  ?  " 

"If  by  my  '  new  love  '  you  mean  the  lady  you  saw 
at  The  Willows,  I've  already  told  you  I  refuse  to  discuss 
her  with  you,"  he  replied,  his  brow  darkening. 

"  I've  no  desire  to  discuss  her.  I  only  want  to  tell 
you  that  I  saw  her  at  the  Alexandra  Park  Spring 
meeting." 

"  What  of  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  except  that  she  wouldn't  have  been  there 
hobnobbing  with  '  bookies  '  if  she  hadn't  got  a  fancy 
for  a  flutter.  What  would  you  say  if  I  told  you  that 
she  backed  one  of  Dan  Westoby's  horses  at  35  to  I. 
and  pulled  it  off  ?  Dan  gave  her  the  tip,  of  course." 

"  It's  a  lie,"  he  burst  out. 

"Is  it?  You'd  better  ask  her.  That's  all  I've 
got  to  say.  Ta-ta." 

Her  lips  curled  derisively,  and  with  a  contemptuous 
wave  of  her  hand  she  threw  him  a  kiss.  He  wheeled 
round  sharply,  so  that  she  could  not  see  his  face,  and 
walked  rapidly  out  of  the  cafe  with  a  sickening  feeling 
creeping  over  him. 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          13$ 
CHAPTER  XIV 

"  VlOLETTA  MAY   BE  NO   BETTER  THAN   CHRISTINE  " 

WHAT  was  Norman  to  think  of  Christine's  words  ? 
Dan  Westoby  had  sworn  to  ruin  him,  and  he  had  suc- 
ceeded, but  surely  it  was  improbable  that  he  should 
know  Violetta,  and  equally  improbable  that  she  would 
back  horses.  He  could  not  recollect  a  single  expression 
of  hers  to  justify  such  an  assertion.  It  was  all  the 
creation  of  Christine's  malevolence  and  jealousy.  No 
one  knew  better  than  he  that  his  wife  had  not  the  least 
respect  for  truth  when  it  suited  her  purpose  to  tell  a 
falsehood.  He  tried  to  brush  the  calumny  aside,  but 
he  found  it  difficult. 

He  crossed  Piccadilly  Circus  and  went  down  Waterloo 
Place  into  St.  James'  Park.  He  walked  about  some 
time  in  the  quietude,  hoping  to  calm  his  agitated  nerves 
and  dispel  his  forebodings.  In  the  first  he  succeeded  ; 
in  the  second  he  failed. 

Norman  had  never  been  able  to  decide  whether  he 
had  acted  wisely  or  foolishly  in  telling  Violetta  that 
"  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe  "  was  his  wife.  Somehow, 
the  words  slipped  out  before  he  could  stop  them,  but 
the  confession  had  enabled  him  to  say  that  he  had 
acted  straightly  towards  Violetta.  Henceforward  she 
would  be  under  no  illusions  as  to  his  position.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  revelation  had  completed  the 
history  of  his  folly  and  he  was  afraid  that  so  shrewd 
a  young  woman  must  set  him  down  as  an  utter  fool. 

This  did  not  trouble  him  so  much  as  the  conviction 
that  he  had  burnt  his  boats  so  far  as  she  was  concerned, 
and  that  he  had  nipped  their  dawning  friendship  in 
the  bud.  As  a  man  with  a  wife  living,  he  must  stand 
in  a  totally  different  light  from  that  which  represented 
him  as  a  widower. 


140          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

He  had  thought  much  over  this  embarrassment.  He 
would  have  dearly  liked  to  know  Violetta's  opinion 
of  him,  but  he  had  felt  that  to  call  upon  her  might 
suggest  an  erroneous  construction.  Possibly  he  need 
not  have  been  so  scrupulous.  A  man  less  emotional, 
less  given  to  introspection,  and  of  a  stronger  mental 
fibre,  might  not  have  thought  twice  about  it. 

But  such  a  man  would  not  have  been  in  love,  and 
this  made  all  the  difference.  It  was  really  the  key  to 
his  present  inaction.  He  had  in  his  idle  way  often 
dreamed  of  Violetta  during  the  four  years'  separation 
and  the  unlikelihood  of  realization  had  acted  rather 
as  a  provocative  than  a  check.  Gradually,  however, 
these  dreams  of  idealistic  happiness  had  become  fewer, 
and  when  his  freedom  came  Violetta  was  but  a  memory. 
He  never  thought  to  see  her  again.  If  ever  they  did 
meet,  in  all  probability  she  would  be  somebody  else's 
wife. 

The  unexpected  had  happened  as  it  has  a  habit  of 
doing.  When  that  meeting  came  about  it  was  he  who 
had  married.  By  contrast  with  Christine,  Violetta 
was  perfection,  and  he  was  more  than  ever  drawn 
towards  her.  But  what  was  the  use  of  dwelling  upon 
the  unattainable  ?  That  way  madness  lay,  so  he  tried 
to  discover  a  middle  road  in  a  sort  of  platonic  love — 
generally  another  term  for  self-deception. 

Norman  was  about  the  last  man  in  the  world  who 
could  be  trusted  to  try  so  hazardous  an  experiment. 
He  was  not  impersonal  enough.  He  could  not  separate 
himself  and  his  emotions  from  anything  that  affected 
him  deeply.  Love  in  the  "  aibstract,"  as  Sidney  Smith's 
Scotch  young  lady  termed  it,  was  to  him  an  impossibility, 
and  maybe  it  was  to  impose  an  insurmountable  barrier 
to  his  own  feelings  that  he  had  confided  to  Violetta 
he  had  a  wife. 

He  went  over  all  this  again  and  again  while  pacing 
the  Mall.  Christine  and  Violetta — Violetta  and 
Christine — they  danced  like  puppets  through  his  confused 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  141 

brain,  and  it  was  some  time  before  his  thoughts  settled 
down  into  something  like  order.  Violetta,  he  decided, 
must  for  the  moment  be  placed  in  the  background. 
While  he  was  menaced  by  Christine  he  would  never 
have  any  peace  of  mind.  She  must  be  dealt  with  at 
once,  and,  leaving  the  Mall  at  the  St.  James's  Palace 
end,  he  jumped  into  a  taxi  in  St.  James's  Street,  and 
was  set  down  at  Gray's  Inn. 

Marlowe  &  Peach,  of  Gray's  Inn  Square,  had  been 
the  Normans'  solicitors  for  three  generations.  There 
were  few  family  skeletons  they  could  not  take  from 
the  japanned  boxes  in  their  sedate  dimly-lighted  office 
with  its  panelled  walls  and  long  narrow  windows. 

Among  these  skeletons  was  Sir  John  Norman's  foolish 
marriage.  He  would  have  said  nothing  but  for  com- 
plications with  West  End  tradesmen  arising  out  of 
debts  contracted  by  Christine  in  her  husband's  name. 
So  when  he  told  Mr,  Barlowe,  a  white-headed,  spectacled, 
solemn-looking  old  gentleman — in  private  life  a  genial 
soul  with  a  partiality  for  old  port — that  a  divorce 
was  in  his  mind  the  lawyer  was  not  surprised. 

"  I  should  imagine  from  what  I  know  of  the  lady 
that  there  won't  be  much  difficulty  in  getting  up  a 
case  against  her.  But  it  may  be  an  expensive  business. 
Private  detectives  are  like  sharks — they'll  swallow 
all  they  can  get.  The  worst  of  that  profession  is  that 
there's  no  check  on  their  charges — no  standard  of  fees. 
I  regard  the  employment  of  private  detectives  as  part 
of  the  punishment  following  a  breach  of  morals." 

"  That  can't  be  helped,"  rejoined  Norman.  "  I'm 
desperately  hard  up — you  know  that,  Mr.  Barlowe, 
as  well  as,  or  better  than  I  do — but  I  must  raise  the 
money  somehow." 

"  Well,  there's  no  immediate  hurry.  We  can  carry 
on  the  preliminaries  for  a  time  and  see  how  things  turn 
out.  Supposing  we  find  a  co-respondent  who's  a  man 
of  means,  we  might  go  in  for  damages.  Unfortunately, 
you  can  hardly  say  you've  suffered  material  injury  in 


142          A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 

her  choosing  to  go  her  own  way.  The  court  might  even 
consider  that  you  married  her  with  your  eyes  open,  and 
that  a  good  deal  of  what  followed  you  might  have 
expected.  You  had  more  than  arrived  at  the  years  of 
discretion  at  the  time  of  your  marriage.  No,  I'm 
afraid  there's  little  hope  of  substantial  damages.  If 
the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  you'll  have  to  sell  the 
last  bit  of  unencumbered  land  you've  got — the  Owl's 
Nest." 

"  That  would  mean  turning  out  Miss  Vaughan," 
Norman  hastily  put  in. 

"  Not  necessarily.  It's  true  she's  a  quarterly  tenant, 
and  a  purchaser  might  think  fit  to  put  up  her  rent 
at  the  end  of  her  three  years'  agreement.  You  know 
she's  got  the  place  dirt  cheap,  and  but  for  your  explicit 
instructions  we  shouldn't  have  let  her  have  it  at  £50 
a  year.  It's  worth  £100  at  least,  and  this  is  what 
a  new  owner  would  probably  want." 

"  Well,  I  shouldn't  think  of  selling  the  place.  It 
would  be  a  breach  of  faith." 

"  Would  it  ?  Miss  Vaughan,  I  take  it,  is  a  friend 
of  yours,  Sir  John  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  She's  a  very  charming  young  lady.  I  was  struck 
by  her  independent  and  original  turn  of  mind.  She's 
one  that  a  man  who  wanted  a  clever  wife  might  easily 
fall  in  love  with.  At  the  same  time,  I  fancy  she  wouldn't 
accept  anyone  who  chanced  to  offer.  She'd  pick  and 
choose.  Perhaps  that's  why  she's  still  single.  I  gather 
from  what  she  said  she's  lived  in  France  for  some  time." 

"  I  believe  so." 

"  Father's  dead,  she  mentioned.  I  suppose  he  left 
her  some  money." 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Anyhow,  she  must  have  some.  She's  indulging  in 
rather  expensive  alterations,  or  additions,  I  believe 
they  are.  Not  usual  for  a  quarterly  tenant  to  spend 
money  for  the  benefit  of  the  landlord." 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          143 

"  Miss  Vaughan  can  do  as  she  likes,  I  suppose," 
rejoined  Norman,  a  little  tartly.  "  I  gave  her  full 
permission.  I  told  her  she  could  pull  the  house  down 
if  she  cared  to  do  so." 

"  Oh,  did  you  ?  That  was  showing  unusual  confidence 
in  the  lady." 

Mr.  Barlowe  gazed  penetratingly  through  his  gleaming 
spectacles  at  his  client  a  second  or  two  and  then  re- 
marked irrelevantly  as  it  seemed  to  Norman  : 

"  I  had  a  visit  from  your  sister  the  other  day  about 
some  of  her  investments." 

"  Yes." 

"  She  enquired  whether  the  Owl's  Nest  was  still 
vacant." 

Norman  looked  suddenly  uncomfortable  beneath  the 
microscopic  eye  of  the  lawyer. 

"  Why  did  she  want  to  know  ?  It's  no  affair  of 
hers,"  broke  out  Norman  angrily. 

"So  I  thought.  I  gave  her  a  general  answer. 
Several  people  were  after  it  I  led  her  to  believe." 

"  Thanks  for  your  discretion,  Mr.  Barlowe.  The 
fact  is  Ella  knows  nothing  about  my  having  let  the  place 
to  Miss  Vaughan." 

"  That  was  my  impression.  Now,  Sir  John,  I  want 
to  give  you  a  word  of  caution.  These  divorce  pro- 
ceedings sometimes  turn  out  quite  differently  from 
what  one  expects.  To  be  successful  you  must  go  into 
court  with  absolutely  clean  hands.  The  King's 
Proctor " 

"  Dash  it  all,  Mr.  Barlowe,  what  are  you  driving  at. 
Surely  you're  not  insinuating. " 

"  I'm  not.  It  isn't  my  fashion  to  insinuate.  I  find 
it  better  to  speak  plainly.  What  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand is  that  if  there  is  anything  between  you  and  this 
extremely  attractive  young  lady " 

"  Well,  there  isn't.  You  may  take  my  solemn  word 
of  honour." 

"  I  do.    But  this  is  where  the  point  comes  in — you 


144          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

mustn't  act  as  if  there  was.  Circumstances,  harmless 
situations,  words,  can  be  so  twisted  as  to  make  white 
appear  black.  It  is  to  the  interest  of  the  King's  Proctor 
and  his  agents  to  bring  about  this  twist.  You  evidently 
take  a  great  interest  in  Miss  Vaughan.  While  these 
proceedings  are  pending,  I  should  advise  you  to  give 
the  Owl's  Nest  a  wide  berth." 

"  I've  not  been  near  the  place  sirice  Miss  Vaughan 
took  up  her  quarters  there." 

"  So  much  the  better.  You've  begun  rather  un- 
fortunately by  not  saying  anything  about  Miss  Vaughan 
to  your  sister." 

"  There  were  reasons  why  I  shouldn't,  since  we  had 
already  had  a  quarrel  about  her." 

"  Indeed  ?  Perhaps  you'd  better  tell  me  all  about  it. 
I  mustn't  be  kept  in  the  dark  you  know,  and  have  a 
surprise  sprung  upon  me." 

Norman  had  no  alternative  but  to  go  over  the  story 
of  the  alleged  "joy  ride  "  and  of  the  unlucky  encounter 
the  same  evening  with  his  wife,  not  forgetting  the 
assertion  of  the  latter  a  few  hours  previous  that  she  had 
recognised  Violetta  as  having  been  at  the  Alexandra 
Park  races. 

"  I  told  her  she  lied,"  concluded  Norman,  "  but  you 
see  she  has  grounds  for  making  herself  unpleasant." 

"  Deucedly  unpleasant,"  said  the  lawyer  gravely. 
"If,  as  you  say,  Miss  Vaughan  is  nothing  to  you,  why 
not  tell  your  sister  she  is  your  tenant  ?  It  would  save 
disagreeable  inuendoes  being  drawn." 

"  I  daresay  it  would,  but  I  know  Ella  and  you  don't. 
If  I  opened  my  mouth  to  her,  the  first  thing  she'd  do 
would  be  to  go  to  the  Owl's  Nest  and  there'd  be  a 
precious  shindy  between  the  two  women.  Besides, 
I  promised  Miss  Vaughan  I  shouldn't  let  Ella  know." 

Mr.  Barlowe  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  took  a 
pinch  of  snuff. 

"  Well,  we  must  hope  for  the  best.  While  we're 
making  enquiries  about  Lady  Norman  you  must  lie 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  145 

low.  No  visits  to  Miss  Vaughan — that  would  be  ab- 
solutely fatal.  Not  even  a  letter." 

Norman  went  away  with  the  lawyer's  warning  in 
his  ears,  by  no  means  comfortable,  it  seemed  to  him 
he  was  in  a  cleft  stick,  for  the  very  steps  he  was  taking 
to  get  rid  of  his  matrimonial  burden  were  increasing 
the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  cementing  his  friendship 
with  Violetta  Vaughan. 

But  one  thing  was  paramount.  He  must  free  himself 
from  his  matrimonial  shackles. 

He  had  not  much  faith  in  Mr.  Barlowe  when  it  came 
to  a  descent  into  the  sordid  and  tortuous  ways  of  life's 
underworld.  Spying  out  the  antecedents  of  a  lady 
meant  wholesale  bribery,  listening  at  keyholes,  so  to 
speak,  interviewing  servants,  always  the  source  of 
gossip  and  scandal,  Mr.  Barlowe  was  far  too  respectable 
for  this  sort  of  thing.  He  always  fought  shy  of  criminal 
business  and  police  courts  generally, 

"  I  hate  doing  it,  but  there's  no  other  way,"  thought 
Norman.  "  I'll  have  to  employ  some  of  the  gentry 
who  dignify  themselves  by  the  name  of  private  enquiry 
agents." 

Of  course,  ke  knew  none,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  Mr. 
Barlowe  knew  any  either,  but  he  wasn't  going  to  test 
the  old  solicitor's  knowledge  of  the  seamy  side  of  London 
life.  He  was  quite  sure  that  Barlowe  would  discoun- 
tenance his  contemplated  action. 

Meanwhile,  he  had  strolled  back  to  Piccadilly  Circus. 
He  was  so  absorbed  that  he  hardly  knew  where  he  was 
going,  and  when  he  discovered  where  his  wandering 
steps  had  borne  him  he  paused. 

It  was  far  too  near  the  Cafe  Nice.  For  all  he  knew 
he  might  run  against  his  wife,  and  this  was  about  the 
last  thing  he  desired.  He  turned  into  that  somewhat 
grimy  and  uninteresting  thoroughfare  Sherwood  Street, 
but  this  led  to  no  place  in  which  he  was  interested. 
Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  the  Bodega  in 
Glasshouse  Street  would  help  him. 


146          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

In  his  racketty  period  of  married  life  with  Christine 
the  Bodega  was  one  of  his  houses  of  call.  He  had  got 
to  a  nodding  acquaintance  with  some  of  the  miscellaneous 
crowd  who  foregather  in  the  various  resorts  of  the 
establishment. 

"  I'll  swear  I'll  get  the  information  I  want  out  of 
one  of  the  seedy  bounders  who  were  always  so  ready 
to  drink  at  my  expense,"  he  thought. 

Hanging  about  the  door  of  the  Bodega  was  a  shabby, 
unshorn  nondescript  whose  red  nose  and  pallid  cheeks 
betrayed  his  besetting  passion.  He  was  selling  matches 
and  he  held  out  a  box  to  Norman  as  the  latter  was 
brushing  past. 

"  If  it's  not  taking  a  liberty,  Sir  John,"  said  the  man 
apologetically,  and  with  a  finger  to  his  greasy  bowler, 
"  may  I  ask  you  to  buy  a  box  ?  I've  come  down  a  bit 
since  you  used  to  tip  me  for  fetching  you  taxis." 

"  Oh  ?     I  don't  recollect  you." 

"  Course  you  don't,  sir.  I'm  Alf  Richards.  I  did 
a  bit  o'  touting  for  you  and  Mr.  Godfree.  I  was  useful 
then  picking  up  news  from  the  stable  about  the  cracks." 

"  I  think  I've  a  glimmering  of  a  remembrance  of 
your  face.  Things  haven't  gone  well  with  you." 

"  Bally  bad,  sir." 

Norman  pulled  out  a  shilling.  Mr.  Richards  accepted 
it  gratefully,  and  his  watery  eyes  became  still  more 
watery. 

"  By  the  way,  Richards,"  said  Norman,  "  I  wonder 
whether  you  can  help  me  in  a  little  matter." 

"  Only  too  pleased.     Don't  often  get  a  job  nowadays." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  what  you  may  call  a  job.  I  want  to 
get  on  the  track  of  a  certain  person,  and  I  thought 
of  employing  a  private  detective.  Do  you  know  of 
anybody  who  does  that  kind  of  thing  ?  " 

"  You've  come  to  the  very  shop,  Sir  John.  I've  done 
a  good  deal  in  that  line  myself." 

Norman  looked  very  doubtful.  Alf  Richards  was 
such  a  disreputable  person  in  his  appearance.  His 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  147 

speech  and  manner,  however,  were  the  reverse.  At 
some  time  of  his  life  he  must  have  mixed  in  fairly  decent 
society. 

But  Norman  hesitated.  Christine  was  certain  to  go 
her  own  way,  restitution  of  conjugal  rights  notwith- 
standing. She  passed  her  time  chiefly  at  swell 
restaurants.  Alf  Richards  was  hardly  the  man  who 
could  shadow  her  at  fashionable  haunts.  He  hinted  at 
something  of  the  kind. 

"  Well,  that's  true,  sir,  but  there  was  a  time  when 
I  knew  them  all ;  ah,  and  the  waiters  looked  after  me, 
too.  I  always  gave  them  good  tips.  Put  me  in  a 
decent  suit  and  I  don't  think  I'd  disgrace  you.  It 
would  cost  you  less  than  if  you  went  to  a  professional  firm. 
They'd  run  you  up  a  big  bill  before  you  could  say 
knife." 

"  Can  I  trust  you  ?  " 

"  Give  me  a  chance.  Do  you  suppose  I  like  this 
kind  of  life  ?  Maybe  I  do  go  in  too  much  for  the  cheerful 
glass,  but  what  would  you  expect  ?  It's  the  only 
pleasure  I  get.  If  I  was  sure  of  a  regular  sum  per  week 
— I  shouldn't  want  much — I'd  keep  myself  straight 
and  not  disgrace  you." 

Norman's  good  nature  and  his  capacity  for  believing 
the  best  of  everyone  came  to  the  rescue  of  Alf  Richards. 

"  We'll  go  downstairs  and  talk  over  the  matter," 
said  he. 

"  I'm  not  fit  company  for  you,  sir,  as  I  am,"  hesitated 
Richards. 

"  Oh,  hang  that.     Come  along." 

They  descended  into  the  Bodega's  lower  regions  and 
Norman  ordered  drinks.  Then  he  explained  what  he 
wanted. 

"  I  don't  see  much  difficulty,  sir,"  said  Richards. 
"  Mrs.  Davenport  isn't  quite  unknown  to  me.  I've  seen 
her  lots  o'  times  on  the  race  course." 

"  No  doubt.  Well,  the  first  thing  you'll  have  to  do 
is  to  make  yourself  fairly  decent.  Suppose  you  get 


148          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

yourself  a  rig  out.  Here's  a  £10  note.  I  daresay 
you  know  how  to  lay  it  out  to  the  best  advantage." 

"  I  guess  I  do,  sir." 

Alf  Richards  handled  the  flimsy  piece  of  paper  Norman 
gave  him  as  though  it  were  a  priceless  treasure.  His 
eyes  glistened  and  he  folded  it  up  with  the  greatest 
care. 

"  Now  you  won't  let  me  down,  I  hope,"  said  Norman. 
"  It's  a  vital  matter  to  me." 

"  I  understand,  sir.  I'll  do  my  best  and  if  there's 
anything  to  be  found  out  I'll  have  it.  I've  had  to 
worm  myself  into  the  secrets  of  many  a  racing  stable 
before  now,  and  if  I  chose  to  open  my  mouth — well — 
that  kind  of  thing  wants  a  bit  of  doing.  T'other 's 
child's  play." 

Mr.  Richards  drew  a  long  breath  and  winked.  The 
drink  had  oiled  his  tongue,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sight 
of  the  tenner  and  he  plunged  into  a  series  of  reminis- 
cences to  which  Norman  listened  languidly. 

Suddenly  he  heard  Richards  mention  the  name  of 
"  Captain  Vaughan,"  and  he  pricked  up  his  ears.  He 
had  Violetta  in  his  mind  at  that  moment.  Her  father, 
as  he  knew  very  well,  was  Captain  Vaughan.  It  might 
be  only  a  coincidence  that  Richards  should  also  know 
a  Captain  Vaughan,  but  it  interested  him,  all  the  same. 

"  What  Captain  Vaughan  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  Why,  Captain  Vaughan  who  ran  the  Beak  Street 
Sporting  Club.  One  of  the  best.  I  was  awfully  sorry 
to  hear  of  him  coming  to  grief  over  the  sticks.  He  ought 
not  to  have  tried  that  fun  at  his  age.  But  if  he'd 
made  up  his  mind  to  do  a  thing  he'd  do  it,  and  the 
devil  take  the  consequence.  His  handsome  daughter 
takes  after  him." 

Norman  stared  at  the  man,  and  hardly  dared  to  ask 
him  any  more  questions.  But  the  impulse  was  too 
strong." 

"  Do  you  know  his  daughter  ?  "  said  he  in  a  voice  of 
suppressed  excitement, 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          149 

"  Miss  Violetta  Vaughan  ?  I  should  think  I  do. 
A  clever  girl  and,  like  her  dad,  one  of  the  best.  The 
way  she  managed  the  canteen  and  kept  the  boys  in 
order  was  a  marvel." 

Norman  felt  a  sinking  at  the  heart.  There  could  be 
no  doubt  that  Alf  Richards  was  speaking  the  truth. 
But  Violetta,  the  manageress  of  a  drinking  bar  at  a 
sporting  club  !  The  idea  was  horrible. 

"  What's  become  of  her  ?  "  he  ventured  to  say, 
putting  on  an  air  of  indifference. 

"  Oh,  I  fancy  she's  tumbled  on  her  feet.  The  club 
went  smash  and  she  went  off  with  the  Captain  to  France. 
What  they  did  there  I  don't  quite  know,  but  it  was 
something  to  do  with  the  turf." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  since  her  return  from  France  ?  " 

"  Once.  It  was  quite  by  chance.  At  the  A.  P.  Easter 
meeting.  She  was  all  there,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  All  there  ?  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  '  all 
there  '  ?  " 

"  Why,  making  a  book,  of  course.  She  pulled  off 
a  real  good  thing.  Backed  "  Daughter  of  the  Mist " 
at  thirty-five  to  one  and  scooped.  I  made  fifteen  quid — 
thanks  to  her  tip.  She  must  have  known  something, 
though  she  swore — well,  she  didn't  swear,  she's  too 
much  of  a  lady — she  didn't." 

"  Are  you  sure  you're  right  ?  You're  not  telling  me 
a  fairy  tale  just  to  make  out  how  clever  you  are  ?  " 
gasped  Norman. 

"  Not  likely.  Why  should  I  ?  It's  all  gospel  truth, 
and  if  I  didn't  know  how  lucky  she  was  in  the  old  days 
in  spotting  winners,  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  myself. 
You  see, '  Daughter  of  the  Mist '  is  one  of  Dan  Westoby's 
horses,  and  Dan  and  his  gang  were  up  to  some  tricks 
over  her.  It  was  their  game  to  work  long  odds  and,  by 
thunder,  they  brought  if  off  though  the  filly  was  nearly 
beaten  at  the  post.  I  don't  understand  how  Miss 
Vaughan  got  to  know,  unless  she  was  in  with  Westoby's 
boys.  But  that's  impossible." 


150          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

The  more  revelations  Richards  unfolded  the  worse 
the  thing  became.  Norman  could  listen  to  nothing 
further.  He  sat  still  as  a  statue  staring  into  space. 

"  When  I  find  out  anything  about  Mrs.  Davenport 
how  shall  I  let  you  know  ?  "  said  Richards,  breaking 
the  silence. 

"  Mrs.  Davenport,"  repeated  Norman,  blankly. 

"  Yes.    That  was  her  name,  you  said." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  rejoined  the  baronet,  rousing  himself. 
"  Write  to  the  Corinthian  Club,  Coventry  Street." 

"  All  right,  sir.  I  won't  lose  a  minute.  Any  other 
instructions  ?  " 

"  No.     You  know  what  to  do." 

Norman  rose  abruptly.  He  was  overwhelmed  by 
what  he  had  heard.  He  nodded  to  Richards  and  strode 
out,  feeling  like  a  rnan  who  had  awakened  out  of  a 
pleasant  dream.  He  was  at  that  moment  incapable  of 
coherent  thought,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  to  face 
the  busy  traffic  of  Regent  Street  that  he  got  back  to 
stern  reality. 

"  So  Christine  was  right,"  he  muttered.  "  It's  appall- 
ing what  women  can  do  in  the  way  of  deception.  For 
anything  that  I  know,  Violetta  may  be  no  better  than 
Christine  !  " 


CHAPTER   XV 
How  A  MAN  LOOKS  AT  IT 

VIOLETTA,  Belphegor,  and  Tim  Hollis  before  long 
became  the  best  of  friends.  It  wanted  a  little  patience 
so  far  as  the  horse  was  concerned  for  his  temper  had  been 
thoroughly  spoilt  by  bad  usage  and  the  stupidity  of 
some  of  the  grooms  in  Peter  Gumley's  stables,  and 
possibly  by  those  who  had  had  the  training  of  him 
when  a  yearling  and  before  he  came  into  Peter's  posses- 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  151 

sion.  The  animal  was  naturally  highly  nervous  and 
had  been  made  more  so,  thanks  to  being  continually 
thwarted  and  thrashed.  At  the  sight  of  a  riding  whip 
he  either  became  rebellious  or  shrank  from  it  according 
to  his  mood. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him  now,  Tim  ?  "  said 
his  mistress,  "  Good  enough  for  the  Two  Thousand  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  good  enough  so  far  as  his  legs  go,"  returned 
Tim  cautiously,  "  it's  when  he  comes  to  mix  up  with 
the  other  gees  that  he  mayn't  be  trusted.  You  see 
Miss,  ever  since  I  knowed  him  he's  had  a  fancy  for 
hugging  his  horses.  It  always  wanted  a  bit  o'  doing  to 
get  him  to  break  away  and  show  what  he  could  do  by 
himself.  Do  you  understand  what  I  mean,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,  Tim.  But  that  was  in  the  bad  old  days. 
I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  hadn't  felt  a  sort  of  pro- 
tection in  the  company  of  his  own  kind.  I  believe 
horses  are  very  much  like  human  beings — you  and  me — 
for  instance." 

"  That's  what  I  believe,  too,  Miss,"  returned  Tim, 
touching  his  forelock  quite  pleased  at  Violetta  classing 
him  with  herself. 

Belphegor  had  been  brought  out  to  show  his  paces 
and  had  just  done  a  sprint  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  under 
Tim's  skilful  jockeying.  The  lad  had  extended  him 
fully,  short  as  the  distance  was.  The  horse  was  now 
standing  as  quiet  as  a  lamb  with  a  cloth  thrown  over 
his  back.  He  certainly  was  in  superb  condition,  and 
somehow  did  not  look  so  ugly  as  when  Violetta  saw  hirn 
on  the  A. P.  course. 

"  I  bed  your  pardon,  Miss,  for  a  sayin'  what's  in  my 
mind,"  went  on  Tim  with  an  apologetic  cough. 

"  Say  anything  you  please,  my  lad,  I  don't  mind." 

"  That's  what  1  like  about  you,  Miss  Violetta.  You 
don't  snub  me  as  Peter  an'  his  lot  was  always  doin'. 
Not  much  good  then  my  trying  to  have  a  say.  I  was 
told  to  shut  up  an'  mind  my  own  business.  As  if  'orses 
wasn't  my  business.  Oh,  good  lor  !  " 


152          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   HADDOCK 

"  Well,  you're  not  at  Peter's  now  so  get  a  move  on 
with  what  you  were  going  to  tell  me." 

"  It  was  just  this.  You'll  have  to  train  Belphegor 
with  other  'orses.  He'll  only  show  what  he  can  do  when 
he's  runnin'  against  them.  A  thing  as  is  easy  he  don't 
care  for." 

Violetta  tapped  her  riding  boots  thoughtfully  with  her 
whip.  She  looked  a  very  attractive  picture  in  her 
masculine  dress,  and  the  regular  hours,  the  out  door  life, 
and  the  bracing  air  of  the  Owl's  Nest  with  its  elevated 
position,  had  given  her  cheeks  a  glow  of  health  she  had 
never  had  before. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  suggest,"  said  she  presently. 

"  Buy  a  couple  more  gees,  Miss." 

Violetta  laughed. 

"  Gees  cost  money.  Can't  be  done.  Think  of  some- 
thing else." 

But  Tim  couldn't.  He  was  only  able  to  scrape  the 
sole  of  one  boot  on  the  upper  of  the  other. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  think  of  something  for  you.  What 
about  taking  him  back  to  Peter  Gumley  ?  " 

Tim's  face  fell. 

"  What,  sell  him  ?  Ain't  you  satisfied  with  me  ? 
I've  done  my  best  with  Belphegor,  s'truth,  an'  the  'orse 
knows  I  have." 

"  Don't  look  so  distressed,  Tim,"  said  Violetta  gravely. 
"  You're  all  right,  and  so  is  Belphegor.  But  I'm  think- 
ing if  Peter  Gumley  saw  him  now  and  saw  you  as  well 
that  he'd  alter  his  mind  about  you  both.  Peter's  not  a 
bad  sort." 

"  I  never  said  he  was.  It's  that  beast  Parsons,  his 
stud  groom,  as  I  could  never  get  on  with." 

"  That's  so.  Well,  I've  reason  to  know  that  Parsons 
has  been  fired.  He  was  found  out  robbing  his  master — 
altering  the  corn  bills  and  so  on.  Things  are  not  quite 
the  same  at  Holberry  Down  as  they  were  when  you  were 
there.  I  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Gumley  the  other  day,  and 
I  put  out  a  feeler  after  I  told  hira  how  straight  you'd 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          153 

been  running.  The  fact  is  he'd  be  very  glad  to  have 
you  back." 

"  Well,  Miss,  I'm  not  goin'.  I'd  rather  stay  here — 
that's  if  you'll  keep  me  on." 

"  It's  this  way.  It's  for  the  sake  of  Belphegor  that  I 
think  you  ought  to  go  to  Holberry  Down — you  and  the 
horse  too.  He  can't  get  the  proper  training  here.  The 
ground's  not  suitable.  What's  the  good  of  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  or  even  half  a  mile  to  a  great  brute  like  Belphegor  ? 
Why  he  only  gets  fairly  into  his  stride  when  he's  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  from  the  winning  post.  You 
said  yourself  he  wasn't  being  done  justice  to  as  he  is." 

"  Yes— but— " 

Tim  shuffled  his  feet  again  and  looked  down  at  his  toes. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?     What's  your  objection  ?  " 

"  I  know  it  'ud  be  a  good  thing  for  Belphegor — so  long 
as  I  was  with  him,  but — well  it's  myself  I've  got  in  mind. 
I'm  a  bit  af eared  of  the  crowd  at  the  Barley  Mow. 
Barney  Moss  'ud  be  hanging  about  again  if  he  once  heard 
I  was  back  at  Peter's." 

"  Then  you  mustn't  go  near  the  Barley  Mow.  Promise 
me  that." 

"  Of  course  I  will.  I  only  hope  as  I'll  be  able  to  keep 
my  promise.  I'll  try,  Heaven  help  me.  I  will  try," 
burst  out  Tim  passionately. 

"  I'm  sure  you  will.  I'll  ride  over  to  Mr.  Gumley's 
this  afternoon  and  fix  the  thing  up  somehow." 

Belphegor  was  not  the  only  occupant  of  the  Owl's 
Nest  stables.  Some  time  after  the  purchase  of  the  horse 
Violetta  bought  a  beautiful  pony  from  a  local  butcher. 
The  latter  had  not  long  had  the  pony  in  his  possession, 
and  he  had  found  it  did  not  suit  him  or  rather  his  man. 
The  creature  was  skittish  and  capricious,  had  bolted 
twice,  and  on  the  second  occasion  had  kicked  the  bottom 
out  of  the  cart  and  sent  the  joints  flying.  The  butcher 
was  afraid  to  trust  it,  and  he  sold  it  to  Violetta  cheaply. 

Violetta  was  delighted  to  have  him,  and  he  was  soon 
a  great  pet. 


She  lost  no  time  in  opening  the  business  which  had 
brought  her  to  Hoi  berry  Down,  and  Peter  listened  to 
what  she  had  to  say  attentively  and  even  approvingly. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Gumley,  you're  as  much  interested 
in  Belphegor  as  1  am,"  said  she.  "  Whatever  stake  he 
pulls  off  you'll  have  a  share  of.  That's  agreed  between 
us,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  haven't  forgotten,  and  I'd  like  to  see  him  do 
some  real  good  work.  But  as  you  say,  I  must  have  his 
training  under  my  own  eye.  I'm  not  going  to  have  the 
A. P.  show  over  again." 

"  Very  well,  that's  what  you  won't  have  if  you  agree 
to  what  I  propose.  Tim  must  come  with  him.  That's 
a  dead  cert." 

Peter  looked  grave  and  fingered  his  chin. 

"  I  swore  I'd  never  take  the  young  beggar  back." 

"  Very  likely.  But  what's  an  oath  more  or  less, 
especially  where  horses  are  concerned.  I'm  quite  sure 
there  are  more  lies  told  and  more  oaths  used  on  the  turf 
than  anywhere  else  in  the  world." 

"  Well,  that's  a  fact,  Miss  Violetta." 

"  Of  course  it  is.     Now,  Tim's  a  reformed  character." 

"  If  he  is,  he  has  to  thank  you  for  it." 

"  No,  I've  just  treated  him  decently  and  trusted  to 
his  word.  I've  come  to  the  conclusion  that  his  dis- 
position's very  like  that  of  Belphegor.  Both  must  be 
allowed  to  go  their  own  road  to  a  certain  extent.  I 
confess  that  I'm  built  much  on  the  same  lines.  We  may 
be  led,  but  we  won't  be  driven." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  contradict  you,  Miss.  But  about 
Tim — what  I  fear  is  the  Barley  Mow.  Nothing  but  touts 
there." 

"  I  know,  and  I  may  tell  you  that  the  lad's  as  much 
afraid  of  the  Barley  Mow  as  you  are.  He's  given  me  his 
word  of  honour  that  he'll  never  go  near  the  place." 

"  Yes,  that  may  be,  and  I  don't  doubt  as  he'll  try  to 
keep  his  word.  But  you  don't  know  what  a  damned 
erafty  crew  get  there.  The  landlord's  as  bad  as  any  of 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          155 

'em.  He's  a  tenant  of  Dan  Westoby's,  and  I'll  go  bail 
that  the  two  are  hand  in  glove.  The  only  safe  thing  is 
to  keep  the  matter  quiet.  Not  a  soul  must  know  that 
I've  got  the  two  here." 

"  Well,  that  can  be  done  I  guess.  Your  men  arc  used 
to  keeping  secrets,  aren't  they.  Can  you  trust  them  ?  " 

"  I  can  now.  I  couldn't  three  months  ago,  but  I've 
weeded  out  the  splitters,  and  I've  got  a  decent  lot  now. 
It  all  depends  upon  Tim  himself." 

"  And  I'll  answer  for  him.  He's  only  to  know  what's 
expected  from  him  and  I'm  convinced  he'll  act  up  to  it." 

"  I  hope  he  will.     Well,  we  must  risk  it,  I  guess." 

"  That's  right.  Now  about  Belphegor.  Can  he  be 
entered  for  the  Two  Thousand  ?  " 

"No.  The  day's  too  near.  There  isn't  time  to  get 
him  into  his  best  form,  and  I  must  know  what  he's  like 
before  we  think  of  him  as  a  Derby  runner.  But  the 
Two  Thousand's  no  good.  Besides,  I'm  fixed  on 
Killarney.  He's  one  of  Lord  Verschoyle's  string,  and 
his  lordship's  backed  him  for  all  he's  worth.  I  must 
keep  faith  with  Lord  Frederick,  who's  a  real  gentleman. 

"  So  I've  heard.  Righto.  Then  we'll  drop  the  Two 
Thou.  Now  when  will  you  come  and  have  a  look  at 
Belphegor  ?  I  shall  be  much  surprised  if  you  don't  say 
that  Tim  has  worked  wonders." 

"  So  much  the  better,  but  I'll  wager  that  you've  had 
a  hand  in  that  same  too.  Begorrah  !  I  shall  never 
forget  that  lesson  in  horse  training  you  gave  my  chaps. 
They  still  talk  about  it." 

"  Only  a  matter  of  common  sense  and  a  bit  of  humanity 
Peter.  Nothing  more." 

"  Whatever  it  was  it  did  the  trick.  Well  I'll  run  over 
to  the  Owl's  Nest  to-morrow  evening." 

So  the  matter  was  arranged.  The  trainer  presented 
himself  as  he  promised,  and  when  it  was  dark  Belphegor 
and  Tim  were  transferred  to  Holberry  Down  and  Gum- 
ley's  staff  was  sworn  to  secrecy. 

There  was  every  probability  of  the  secret  being  kept 


156          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

for  all  the  men  and  boys  who  had  been  on  bad  terms 
with  the  lad  had  been  dismissed. 

But  when  the  two  had  departed  Violetta  felt  strangely 
desolate.  It  was  as  though  her  occupation  was  gone, 
and  it  wasn't  strange  that  in  the  vacuity  of  mind  which 
followed  that  her  thoughts  should  drift  back  to  John 
Norman. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,"  said  she  to  herseif.  "  You  know 
you're  not  in  love  with  the  man,  and  if  you  were  what 
would  be  the  good.  One  woman's  made  a  fool  of  him, 
and  it  would  be  an  act  of  cruelty  to  add  to  his  com- 
plications by  another  woman  coming  on  the  scene. 
Besides,  he's  a  stupid.  He  simply  drifts." 

Quite  so,  but  a  drifting  man  is  very  often  an  object  of 
interest  to  an  energetic  woman.  Violetta  tried  to 
banish  John  Norman  from  her  mind  but  she  found  the 
effort  very  difficult. 

She  felt  rather  annoyed  that  he  had  not  written  to  her 
and  angry  with  herself  because  she  was  annoyed.  Yet 
on  reasoning  the  thing  out  his  silence  was  quite  ex- 
cusable. After  his  confession  of  folly  he  probably  had 
regretted  his  outburst  of  confidence.  No  doubt  his 
conduct,  in  so  doing,  was  perfectly  proper,  but  it  was 
really  putting  a  barrier  in  front  of  their  future  friend- 
ship. 

"  I  suppose  that's  how  a  man  would  look  at  it,"  she 
mused.  "  A  woman  doesn't  take  the  same  view.  When 
a  man  admits  to  one  woman  what  a  fool  he  has  made  of 
himself  over  another  it's  a  sort  of  tribute  to  the  superi- 
ority of  the  woman  to  whom  the  admission  is  made." 

There  was  something  in  this  argument.  The  annals 
of  crime  abound  with  examples.  Men  after  perpetrating 
some  offence,  whether  robbing  or  violence,  are  restless 
and  unhappy  until  they  have  made  some  woman  their 
confidant.  The  police  know  this  full  well,  and  they  are 
quick  to  take  advantage  of  it.  Even  Mr.  Charles  Peace, 
silent  and  solitary  worker  though  he  prided  himself  on 
being,  was  not  proof  against  the  weakness. 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  157 

But  Violetta  was  not  concerned  about  solving  sexual 
problems  of  this  kind.  She  did  not  pursue  the  subject, 
and  as  the  stables  no  longer  possessed  anything  of 
interest  for  her  she  sat  down  to  the  piano  to  drive  away 
her  thoughts  by  grappling  with  the  intricacies  of  Bach. 

A  fortnight  went  over  and  she  missed  the  peculiarities 
of  Belphegor,  which  she  was  never  tired  of  studying,  and 
the  shrewd  talk  of  Tim  Hollis,  who  in  some  of  his  observa- 
tions was  quite  the  man  of  experience,  and  she  felt  a 
restless  curiosity  to  know  how  both  were  getting  on. 

She  had  not  heard  from  Peter  Gumley,  but  this  did 
not  surprise  her.  The  trainer,  as  he  often  confessed, 
was  no  "scholard,"  and  to  put  pen  to  paper  was  to  him 
always  a  task  of  abhorrence. 

The  two  had  arranged  that  Peter  should  not  go  near 
the  Owl's  Nest.  Peter  had  reason  to  believe  that 
Barney  Moss  or  some  other  tout  was  always  lurking 
about  Holberry  Down  on  the  look  out  for  some  scraps 
of  news,  and  he  had  discovered  that  one  of  the  stable 
lads  had  been  approached  and  offered  bribes,  but  with- 
out success.  He  was  particularly  anxious  that  Belphegor 
should  remain  a  "  dark  horse,"  and  accordingly  neglected 
no  precautions  to  preserve  secrecy. 

Violetta  quite  agreed  with  this  policy,  but  as  the  days 
wore  on  her  anxiety  became  intolerable,  and  she  at  last 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  though  it  might  not  be  wise 
for  Peter  Gumley  to  come  to  the  Owl's  Nest,  as  doubtless 
his  movements  were  watched,  there  did  not  seem  any 
harm  in  her  calling  upon  him.  The  touts  could  hardly 
care  what  she  did. 

So  one  afternoon  she  sallied  forth,  and  mounted  on 
her  pony  she  rode  to  Holberry  Down. 


158          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 


CHAPTER    XVI 
LORD  VERSCHOYLE'S  "  CRACKS  ' 

RAVENSCROFT  HOUSE,  the  family  seat  of  the  Verschoyles, 
was  about  three  miles  from  Holberry  Down  Farm.  It 
was  a  big,  old  mansion  of  the  Georgian  period,  when 
architects  seemed  to  care  nothing  for  beauty  and  every- 
thing for  space.  Ravenscroft  House  could  not  be  said 
to  be  a  picturesque  structure.  It  was  a  somewhat  squat 
building  of  two  storeys,  built  of  stone,  and  with  an 
enormous  frontage.  Its  pretensions  to  ornament  were 
in  the  debased  Italian  style  then  affected. 

Standing  on  a  hill,  this  big  white  mansion,  especially 
when  the  sun  shone  on  it,  could  be  seen  for  miles  around. 
You  caught  glimpses  of  it  between  the  trees  in  the 
summer,  while  in  the  winter  it  stood  out  bleak,  bare,  and 
gaunt. 

While  critics  of  to-day  might  denounce  the  taste  of  the 
age  which  could  produce  such  a  house,  all  agreed  that 
it  stood  in  the  most  charming  of  parks.  The  beeches  of 
Ravenscroft  House  were  landmarks,  and  the  spot  was  a 
favourite  one  for  picnickers  when  permission  could  be 
obtained — which  wasn't  often — from  the  owner  of  the 
property. 

Lord  Verschoyle  had  the  military  mind  and  the 
military  manner.  Before  he  came  into  his  title  he  was  a 
captain  in  the  Guards  and  had  retired  after  some  years 
of  service.  When  the  war  broke  out  he  joined  up  and 
went  through  the  arduous  campaign  with  distinction. 

He  was  really  a  good  sort  of  fellow  once  you  got  below, 
the  crust  of  militaryism.  He  was  nearer  forty  than 
thirty,  and  his  hair  and  moustache,  ebony  black  in  his 


A   QUEEN    OF  THE   PADDOCK  159 

youth,  had  gone  snow  white.  Certainly  a  distinguished 
looking  man,  if  not  blessed  with  superfluity  of  brains. 

He  had  just  got  through  a  generous  breakfast  when 
Gleeson,  his  head  groom,  was  announced.  It  was  part 
of  the  daily  routine.  Gleeson  had  to  make  his  appear- 
ance at  nine  o'clock  exactly  every  morning  to  report  as 
to  the  horses  and  dogs. 

Lord  Verschoyle  had  the  same  views  about  punctuality 
as  had  the  old  Duke  of  Wellington.  It  did  not  consist  in 
coming  five  minutes  before  the  time  appointed,  and 
certainly  not  five  minutes  later.  It  had  to  be  on  the  tick 
of  the  clock.  Gleeson,  who  had  had  experience  of  his 
lordship's  irascibility,  was  very  careful  to  observe  the 
law  laid  down. 

"  Well,  Gleeson,  what  are  we  going  to  do  over  the 
Derby  ?  "  said  his  lordship,  plunging  at  once  into 
business. 

"  Well,  m'lord,  your  lordship's  got  three  'osses  entered 
and  two  of  'em's  in  the  Two  Thousand.  It's  this  way — " 

"  I  know  all  about  that.  We  needn't  go  into  it 
again,"  interrupted  the  noble  lord  impatiently.  "  I 
want  to  know  how  the  horses  are  going  on  and  which  is 
the  best  one  to  fancy.  Have  you  heard  anything  from 
Peter  Gumley  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  since  the  day  before  yesterday.  I  re- 
ported yesterday  what  he  said." 

"  Well,  what's  your  opinion  ?  "  said  the  noble  lord, 
after  a  pause. 

"  Well,  m'lord,  I'm  rather  sweet  on  Quicksand,  but 
Peter  fancies  Killarney." 

"So  do  I.  But  there's  not  much  to  choose  between 
them.  I  wonder  whether  it  was  good  policy  entering 
Quicksand  in  the  name  of  John  Smith.  I  did  it  on 
Peter's  advice." 

"  Quite  right,  m'lord.  It'll  make  a  lot  o'  difference  in 
the  odds.  You  can't  win  with  both." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  rejoined  his  lordship,  with  a  short 
laugh.  "  But  if  I  elect  to  bet  on  Killarney  for  the 


160          A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

winner,  there's  nothing  to  prevent  me  backing  Quicksand 
both  ways." 

"  Nothing  at  all,  m'lord." 

"  And  what  about  Laverock  ?  " 

"  I  should  leave  her  alone.  She  won't  stay  the  Derby 
course." 

"  Well,  we'll  talk  about  her  later  on.  It's  the  Two 
Thousand  we've  got  to  think  about.  Gleeson,  after 
lunch  let  us  ride  over  to  Peter  Gumley's  and  have  a  talk 
with  him  about  the  cracks." 

"  Right,  sir.     What  will  you  ride  ?     Polly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  mare  suits  me  the  best.  She  is  the  quietest 
nag  I've  got." 

"  Very  good,  sir ;  I'll  be  round  with  her  in  ten 
minutes." 

And  in  ten  minutes,  Gleeson,  mounted  on  a  stout  cob, 
appeared  leading  a  beautiful  chestnut  mare,  which  one 
would  have  said,  at  first  sight,  was  scarcely  up  to  Lord 
Verschoyle's  weight.  It  was  her  perfect  symmetry, 
however,  which  made  her  deceptive.  She  was  really  a 
very  powerful  animal,  and  had  the  temper  of  an 
angel. 

His  lordship  and  the  stud  groom  rode  along  without 
talking  very  much.  Gleeson  knew  his  master,  and  did 
not  speak  unless  he  was  spoken  to.  To-day,  his  lordship 
was  not  in  a  talkative  mood,  and  so  from  a  con- 
versational point  of  view  the  ride  was  a  dull  one. 

At  last  the  scattered  buildings  of  Holberry  Down 
Farm  came  in  view,  and  the  two  riders  must  have  been 
seen  from  afar  off,  for  Mrs.  Gumley  met  them  at  the 
garden  gate. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Mrs.  Gumley,"  said  my  lord. 
"  Husband  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord.  He  half  expected  you  to-day.  He's 
in  the  paddock.  Jock,"  she  called  out  to  a  curly- 
headed  stable  boy,  who  was  peeping  through  the  door 
leading  from  the  garden  to  the  stalls,  "  come  and  take 
these  horses," 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          161 

The  boy  ran  forward,  and  Lord  Verschoyle  and  the 
groom  dismounted. 

"  Will  you  come  through  the  house  ?  It's  the  nearest 
way  to  the  paddock." 

"  Very  well." 

Mrs.  Gumley  preceded  them,  and  they  followed  her 
her  along  the  passage,  crossing  a  spacious  kitchen,  and, 
leaving  a  dairy  of  spotless  appearance  on  the  left,  went 
through  a  kind  of  poultry-yard  into  the  paddock  beyond. 

"  Eh,  what's  Belphegor  out  for  ?  "  exclaimed  Gleeson. 
"Surely  Peter's  not  going  to  run  him  for  the  Derby  ?  " 

"  Not  likely,  Mr.  Gleeson.  Peter  isn't  such  a  fool. 
He  knows  better  than  run  a  cross-grained  brute  like 
Belphegor." 

"  I  know  ;  but  what's  he  being  trotted  out  this  after- 
noon for  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  much.  Only  to  see  what  a  new  boy 
can  do." 

"  Rather  a  stiff  trial,  isn't  it,  ma'am  ?  I  mean  for 
the  boy." 

"  Yes  ;  but  Peter  knows  best." 

"  I'll  be  bound  he  does." 

Belphegor  had  been  back  about  a  week.  His  arrival 
as  well  as  the  return  of  Tim  Hollis,  had  been  kept  a 
profound  secret.  It  so  happened  he  was  being  exercised 
at  the  time  of  Lord  Verschoyle's  visit,  and  Mrs.  Gumley 
was  a  little  embarrassed  how  to  account  for  his  appear- 
ance in  the  paddock. 

Lord  Verschoyle  did  not  matter  much.  He  knew  very 
little  about  the  horse  and  the  little  jockey,  and  had  no 
curiosity  concerning  them.  It  was  different,  however, 
with  Gleeson.  The  latter  was  bound  to  gossip  about  it, 
both  in  the  Ravenscroft  House  stables  and  at  the  Barley 
Mow.  Before  long  there  wouldn't  be  any  secret  about 
the  matter. 

But  the  thing  was  done,  and  all  the  trainer's  wife 
could  do  was  to  make  the  best  of  it.  So  she  put  on  an 
air  of  indifference, 


162          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

Just  then  Peter  Gumley  caught  sight  of  his  visitors 
and  came  forward  to  greet  his  lordship  and  the  stud  groom. 

"  Well,  Gumley,"  said  his  lordship,  "  and  how  are  the 
youngsters  going  on  ?  " 

"  The  whole  three  are  in  prime  condition,  my  lord. 
The  best  lot  turned  out  from  Ravenscroft  House  for  many 
a  long  day." 

"  Are  you  still  bent  upon  making  Killarney  the  Derby 
winner  ?  " 

"I  see  nothing  to  alter  my  decision.  It  all  depends 
on  the  Two  Thousand,  and  whether  we  have  luck  and  a 
good  jockey." 

"  Ah,  that's  what  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about. 
Gleeson  tells  me  you  think  of  putting  up  one  of  the 
stable  boys.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  was  so,  sir  ;  but  I've  had  to  alter  my  mind 
since  then." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it.  A  stable  boy  would  never  win  a  race 
like  the  Two  Thousand,  let  alone  the  Derby." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"  Now  I  should  like  to  see  those  three  horses  of  mine 
run,  Gumley." 

"  Well,  sir,  it  isn't  the  best  time  of  the  day.  If  I'd 
known  you  were  coming,  I  would  have  had  them  ready. 
Can't  you  come  over  to-morrow  and  see  them  do  a 
gallop  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  I  can't.  I've  come  here  now  on  purpose.  It 
can't  make  any  difference  to  you." 

"  Oh,  not  to  me ;  but  it  makes  a  difference  to  the 
horses.  However,  sir,  have  your  own  way." 

And  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say 
"  It's  no  use  contradicting  this  martinet,"  Peter  turned 
away  and  gave  some  orders  to  one  of  the  lads,  who 
forthwith  disappeared. 

In  about  twenty  minutes  the  three  shapely  beauties — 
Killarney,  Laverock  and  Quicksand — appeared,  looking 
round  with  their  big  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say,  "What  are 
we  brought  out  at  this  time  of  the  day  for  ?  " 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  163 

Of  the  three,  Killarney  was  the  handsomest.  He  was 
a  dark  chestnut,  with  a  broad  chest  and  powerful  thighs. 
He  looked  fit  to  run  for  a  king's  ransom.  Laverock  was 
a  black  filly,  with  clean  and  flat  forelegs,  and  by  com- 
parison with  Killarney  was  almost  narrow.  Still,  there 
was  undeniably  the  look  of  a  racer  about  her. 

Quicksand,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  grey — a  very 
unusual  colour  for  a  racer.  He  was  the  least  attactive 
of  the  three.  He  was  a  big  horse,  with  a  somewhat  lean 
head,  and  his  frame  a  little  clumsily  built.  In  looks  he 
could  not  compare  with  Killarney. 

"  Johnson,  you  will  ride  Killarney  ;  Jock,  you're  on 
Laverock  ;  and  who  shall  I  put  on  Quicksand  ?  " 

While  the  trainer's  eye  was  wandering  round,  and  he 
was  debating  the  point  within  himself,  his  glance  fell  on 
Tim  Hollis,  who  on  Belphegor  was  at  the  far  end  of  the 
paddock. 

"  There's  nobody  else  handy.  It'll  be  a  bit  of  practice 
for  the  lad,"  he  thought. 

So  he  sent  for  Tim,  and  after  Belphegor  was  stabled  the 
boy  presented  himself. 

"  I  want  you  to  have  a  go  on  the  grey.  Mind,  now, 
he's  a  lazy  brute,  but  there's  plenty  of  speed  in  him  if 
you  know  how  to  get  it  out,"  said  Gumley. 

Tim  looked  at  Quicksand,  but  said  nothing.  After  a 
minute  or  two  he  went  up  to  the  animal,  patted  its  neck, 
and  talked  to  it,  as  if  to  introduce  himself  and  get  its 
good  will. 

The  cloths  were  stripped  off  the  animals,  and  the  boys 
mounted  and  cantered  across  the  paddock  to  the  gate 
which  led  on  to  the  downs. 

It  was  a  breezy  April  afternoon,  and,  on  the  whole, 
not  a  bad  day  for  a  spin.  Peter  Gumley  looked  a  little 
anxiously  across  the  Downs,  as  if  fearing  to  see  Barney 
Moss  or  any  of  his  kidney  about.  But  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach  there  was  not  a  soul  in  sight. 

"  There'll  be  no  harm  done  after  all,"  muttered  the 
trainer  "  No  one  would  expect  a  trial  to  be  made  this 


164          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

afternoon,  and  so  we  shall  be  pretty  safe  from  the 
attentions  of  the  spies." 

"  Well,  Gleeson,  what  do  you  think  now  ?  "  asked 
Lord  Verschoyle,  as  they  followed  the  horses  across  the 
paddock  and  criticised  the  action  of  each. 

"  There's  no  doubt,  sir,  that  Killarney's  a  grand  colt. 
We  know  what  he's  made  of.  He's  got  a  splendid 
chance  for  the  Two  Thousand,  but  for  all  that  I  fancy 
Quicksand.  Of  course,  everything  depends  upon  the 
riding." 

"  Look  here,  Gleeson,  we  must  have  Tom  Allworth 
to  ride  him." 

"  You  must  talk  to  Mr.  Gumley  about  that,  m'lord," 
said  the  groom,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

His  lordship  did  ask  Gumley. 

"  You  seem  to  forget,  m'lord,  that  you  quarrelled  with 
Allworth  just  before  the  Epsom  Spring  Meeting.  He 
rode  Tomtit  because  he  was  engaged  to  do  so,  but  he 
swore  he'd  never  ride  another  horse  of  yours,  and  I  don't 
suppose  he  will.  Tom's  a  man  of  his  word." 

Lord  Verschoyle  bit  his  lips  and  said  no  more.  He 
remembered  the  incident  perfectly  well.  He  had  been 
in  an  unusually  bad  humour  that  morning,  and,  attempt- 
ing to  dictate  to  Tom  Allworth  what  he  should  do,  the 
distinguished  jockey  had  virtually,  if  not  in  so  many 
words,  told  him  to  mind  his  own  business.  Allworth 
went  dead  against  his  lordship's  instructions  and  won 
the  race  with  Tomtit. 

There  was  some  little  delay  before  Gumley  got  the 
horses  off.  Killarney  was  apparently  restive,  and  every 
now  and  then  his  ears  went  back  in  a  decidedly  vicious 
fashion  ;  but  at  last  a  good  start  was  made,  and  away 
the  three  cracks  went,  skimming  the  ground  like  swallows, 
Killarney  quite  a  length  and  a  half  in  front  of  Laverock, 
Quicksand  plodding  away  a  length  behind  the  second 
horse. 

^ •; "  Why,  it's  a  foregone  conclusion,"  exclaimed  Lord 
Verschoyle.    "  Killarney's  first  and  the  rest  are  nowhere," 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  165 

"  Wait  a  minute,  sir,"  said  the  trainer  gravely. 
"  Johnson  hasn't  done  what  I  told  him.  He  was  to 
keep  him  well  in  hand  the  first  half  of  the  course.  Instead 
of  that  he's  let  the  brute  have  his  head.  We  shall  see 
the  result." 

"  Eh,  look  there  !  "  cried  Gleeson.  "  Quicksand's 
coming  along  hand  over  hand.  He's  headed  Laverock. 
Laverock's  beaten.  See  how  he's  creeping  up.  Why, 
he's  close  to  Killarney's  heels — he's  up  to  his  shoulders 
— he's  beaten  him  by  George." 

"  By  a  couple  of  lengths,  too,"  said  the  trainer, 
quietly. 

Lord  Verschoyle  put  down  his  glasses,  and  turned 
sharply  round  to  the  latter. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Gumley  ?  You  led  me  to 
understand  that  Killarney  was  the  best  horse  in  the 
stable,  and  that  Quicksand  was-  simply  intended  to  make 
the  running,  and  now  this  horse,  which  was  supposed  to 
have  no  chance,  beats  its  companion.  How  do  you 
account  for  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  horses  are  very  like  men.  They  can't  be 
the  same  every  day  of  their  lives.  But  in  this  case  I 
should  say  it's  the  riding  that  did  it.  That  boy  got  every 
ounce  of  speed  out  of  the  grey,  and  he  used  no  whip 
either.  How  he  managed  it  I  can't  think." 

The  trial  had  upset  all  Lord  Verschoyle's  calculations. 
He  had  backed  Killarney  for  a  large  amount  to  win,  and 
if  the  horses  showed  their  true  form  that  day,  it  looked 
as  if  he  stood  a  good  chance  to  lose  his  money.  It  was 
clear  that  to  make  himself  safe  he  must  back  Quicksand. 
Fortunately,  the  grey  was  a  very  long  way  down  in  the 
betting,  and  unless  the  news  of  the  running  that  day  got 
wind,  his  owner  would  be  able  easily  to  hedge,  and 
without  much  risk. 

The  horses  came  back  at  an  easy  walk  to  the  paddock, 
and  while  the  cloths  were  being  put  on,  Gumley  favoured 
Johnson  with  a  jacketing  for  disobeying  his  instruc- 
tions. 


166          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  I  did  keep  him  in  hand,  sir ;  but  the  others  kept 
theirs  in  hand  too." 

"  If  that  was  so,  how  was  it  that  you  couldn't  bring 
him  up  to  the  scratch  when  he  was  wanted  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  sir,  unless  he  ain't  as  good  a  horse  as 
Quicksand,  or  else  there  was  some  secret  in  that  chap's 
riding.  I  don't  believe  it  was,  though.  It  was  all  a 
fluke,  after  all." 

"  Fluke  be  bothered,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Gumley, 
irritably.  "  You  thought  Hollis  couldn't  ride  and  you 
didn't  bother  yourself." 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  can  ride  any  better  than  me," 
said  the  boy,  sullenly. 

Bob  Johnson  was  ignominiously  sent  off  with  the 
proverbial  "  flea  in  his  ear,"  and  Peter  Gumley  turned 
to  Lord  Verschoyle. 

"  I  guess,  my  lord,  you  can  see  what  I  think  by  my 
hauling  that  disobedient  young  rascal  over  the  coals," 
said  he. 

"  You  mean  that  you  consider  Killarney  the  better 
horse." 

"  I  do — if  properly  mounted.  He  didn't  have  a  fair 
chance  just  now." 

"  Who  was  up  on  Quicksand  ?  " 

"  A  boy  who's  not  had  much  experience.  I  wanted 
to  see  what  sort  of  stuff  he  was  made  of.  That's  why  I 
put  him  on  Quicksand.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I'd  no  one 
else  available.  Most  of  the  lads  get  an  hour  or  two  off 
about  this  time  o'  day,"  returned  Gumley  carelessly. 

"  Well,  Gumley,  if  I  know  anything  of  horses  and 
riding  I  should  say  you've  got  a  find  in  that  youngster. 
If  he  goes  on  as  he's  doing  some  day  he'll  be  at  the  top 
of  the  tree." 

"  You  think  so,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Think  ?  I'm  sure  of  it.  The  way  he  handled 
Quicksand  was  splendid." 

"  It  was  pretty  good.  I  will  say  that ;  but  with  a 
better  jockey  on  Killarney  it  'ud  be  a  different  thing." 


167 

"  May  be  ;  but  as  matters  look  now,  if  that  boy  rides 
Quicksand  in  the  Two  Thousand  as  well  as  he  did  to-day, 
and  Killarney  runs  no  better,  it  will  upset  the  apple 
cart.  I've  too  much  at  stake  on  Killarney  to  afford  to 
lose.  I've  told  all  my  friends  to  back  him,  and  they've 
done  so  pretty  heavily.  Unless  there's  a  change 
in  the  situation  it  would  be  better  to  scratch  Quick- 
sand. 

Gumley's  face  fell. 

"  It'll  have  a  bad  effect,"  said  he.  "  The  public  won't 
like  it." 

"  What  does  that  matter  ?  "  rejoined  his  lordship 
brusquely.  "  The  public  have  never  sacrificed  them- 
selves for  me.  Why  should  I  sacrifice  myself  for  the 
public  ?  " 

"  That's  true.  At  the  same  time  you  can't  prevent 
people  talking.  Your  lordship's  name's  A.I.  Every- 
body knows  you  wouldn't  do  anything  that's  unsports- 
manlike." 

"  I  don't  follow  you,  Gumley,"  said  the  nobleman 
frowningly,  and  tapping  his  riding  boot  with  his  hunting 
crop. 

"  Well,  you  know  that  when  a  horse  is  scratched  the 
bookies  benefit.  The  backers  lose  their  money.  That's 
a  bad  start  to  begin  with,  isn't  it  ?  But  what  do  most 
of  'em — I  mean  the  backers — say  when  a  horse  is 
scratched  ?  Unless  its  an  undoubted  fact  that  the 
horse  isn't  fit  to  run,  the  scratching  of  it's  put  down  to 
a  dodge  on  the  part  of  the  owner  or  of  those  who  are 
advising  him.  That's  the  po-sition  my  lord." 

An  uneasy  look  crept  over  Lord  Verschoyle's  face. 
He  prided  himself  on  being  the  soul  of  honour,  as  indeed 
he  was.  He  had  always  played  the  game,  and  always 
would. 

"  Hang  it,  Gumley,"  he  broke  out.  "  I  believe  you're 
right.  Anyhow,  we've  got  to  guard  against  loss  in  the 
event  of  Quicksand  winning.  What  do  you  advise  ? 
Back  it  both  ways  ?  " 


168          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  That's  the  best  thing.  It's  a  dead  cert  that  unless 
Tom  All  worth  rides  Killarney " 

"  I  won't  have  Tom  All  worth,"  interposed  his  lordship 
angrily. 

Peter  Gumley  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  pursed  up 
his  mouth  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Then  you  must  go  to  the 
devil  your  own  way,  my  lord." 

"  Isn't  there  any  other  jockey  you  can  put  up  ?  " 

"  No  one  that  I'd  care  to  see  on  Killarney.  All  the 
best  lads  have  their  engagements,  and  they  can't  break 
'em.  It's  a  bit  o'  luck  that  Tom  Allworth's  free.  But 
it  won't  be  for  long,  and  I  spoke  to  him  yesterday  about 
Killarney,  and  he's  quite  willing — that  is,  if  your  lord- 
ship's willing." 

"  You  oughtn't  to  have  taken  the  matter  into  your 
own  hands.  You  ought  to  have  consulted  me  first," 
growled  his  lordship. 

"  Pardon  me,"  retorted  the  trainer  bluntly.  "  If  I'm 
fit  to  be  trusted  with  your  lordship's  horses,  I'm  fit  to  be 
trusted  to  select  the  lads  best  suited  to  ride  'em." 

But  Lord  Verschoyle  would  not  give  way,  though  he 
knew  very  well  Peter  Gumley  was  in  the  right.  His 
lordship  hated  climbing  down,  and  when  he  did  he  liked 
to  have  a  good  excuse  for  it.  Quite  unexpectedly  the 
excuse  was  forthcoming. 

At  that  moment  the  trim  figure  of  a  lady  irreproach- 
ably dressed  was  seen  coming  across  the  paddock  towards 
them, 


CHAPTER   XVII 

VlOLETTA  TAKES  LORD  VERSCHOYLB  IN   HAND 

PETER  GUMLEY'S  face  changed.  He  did  not  know 
whether  he  was  sorry  or  pleased  to  see  the  mistress  of 
the  Owl's  Nest.  Anyhow,  her  arrival  gave  him  a  chance 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          169 

to  leave  his  lordship  for  a  brief  space  and  enable  him  to 
chew  the  cud  of  his  reflections. 

So  with  an  apology  to  Lord  Verschoyle,  he  hastened 
to  meet  Violetta  knowing  that  if  he  stayed  to  talk  over 
the  point  in  dispute  with  his  lordship  a  quarrel  might 
end  the  business. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Miss  Violetta,"  said  Gumley, 
touching  his  hat.  "  But  you  ought  to  ha'  been  here  ten 
minutes  ago  an'  you'd  ha'  seen  a  trial  of  the  pick  of  Lord 
Verschoyle's  stables. ' ' 

"  I  did  see  it.  Mrs.  Gumley  and  I  watched  the  spin 
from  the  dairy  window.  Tell  me  " — she  went  on  a 
little  excitedly — "  who  was  up  on  the  grey  ?  Mrs. 
Gumley  said  she  was  sure  it  was  Tim  Hollis,  but  I  could 
hardly  believe  it  after  what  you  said  about  him." 

"  Well,  it  was  the  young  rascal." 

"  Then  you've  made  it  up  with  the  boy." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  bear  no  malice.  Maybe  I  was  a  bit 
hasty,  an'  p'raps  I  forgot  I'd  been  a  boy  meself  an' 
sometimes  kicked  over  the  traces." 

"  I'll  be  bound  you  did,  Peter,"  said  Violetta 
beamingly.  "Anyhow,  I'm  glad  you've  taken  Tim  into 
favour  again.  He's  certain  to  do  great  things  for  you 
sooner  or  later." 

"  So  Lord  Verschoyle  says." 

"  Is  that  Lord  Verschoyle  ?  " 

Violetta's  eyes  wandered  in  the  direction  of  the  well 
set  up  soldierly  man  who  was  pacing  slowly  up  and 
down,  now  and  again  tapping  his  riding  boot  with  his 
whip  as  though  the  action  helped  him  to  settle  some 
doubt  in  his  mind. 

"  Yes,  that's  his  lordship.  He's  a  real  gentleman,  but 
he's  got  a  bit  of  a  temper." 

"  A  man's  none  the  worse  for  that." 

"  May  be  not,  but  there's  tempers  and  tempers.  My 
lord's  temper  won't  let  him  listen  to  reason.  That's 
where  he  makes  a  mistake. 

Violetta  laughed. 


170          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  What's  amusin'  you,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  dear  man,  all  tempers  are  like  that.  You 
must  give  them  time  to  simmer  down." 

"There's  a  lot  of  sense  in  what  you  say,  Miss 
Violetta,"  returned  Gumley,  scratching  his  head.  "  I'll 
go  bail  you  could  soothe  a  man's  temper  as  well  as  you 
can  soothe  a  horse's.  Now  if  you'd  only  take  Lord 
Verschoyle  in  hand " 

"  Good  Heavens,  Peter,  you  don't  want  me  to  whisper 
in  the  man's  ear,  and  stroke  his  neck,"  broke  in  Violetta 
with  another  burst  of  merriment. 

"  No,  not  quite  that — though  I'll  bet  that  'ud  put  him 
in  a  good  humour  in  two  twos.  It  would  me,"  and 
Peter's  eyes  twinkled. 

"  I  dare  say,  but  it  would  put  Mrs.  Gumley  into  a 
bad  one.  But  what  is  it  you  want — I  mean  about  Lord 
Verschoyle  ?  " 

"  It's  just  this.  His  lordship,  a  little  time  ago,  had  a 
bit  of  a  row  with  Tom  All  worth,  and  Tom  swore  he'd 
never  put  his  legs  across  one  of  the  Verschoyle  string 
again." 

"  Did  Tom  say  that  to  Lord  Verschoyle  ?  " 

"  No.  He  said  it  to  Gleeson,  Lord  Verschoyle's  stud 
groom,  and  of  course  the  blundering  blockhead  carried 
Tom's  words  to  his  master.  That's  how  mischief's 
made — people's  stupid  tongues.  It  put  his  lordship's 
back  up  and  he  now  swears  he  won't  have  Tom  ride 
Killarney.  All  I've  got  to  say  is  that  if  he  doesn't  go 
back  on  his  word,  he'll  come  a  cropper.  Killarney,  bar 
accidents,  can't  win  if  Quicksand  runs  his  best." 

"  And  will  he  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  put  Tim  up,  and  you  saw  how  the 
boy  handled  the  grey." 

"  Yes,  but  why  doesn't  Lord  Verschoyle  back  Quick- 
sand ?  " 

"  He  will  to  a  certain  extent,  but  he's  too  deep  in  with 
Killarney  to  make  anything.  If  he  gets  his  money  back 
supposing  Quicksand  wins,  it'll  be  as  much  as  he  will, 


and  he'd  rather  the  chestnut  won,  even  though  he 
didn't  clear  a  penny." 

"  I  understand.  I  might  feel  that  way  myself  over 
Belphegor." 

"  Belphegor — h'in." 

An  uneasy  look  crept  over  the  trainer's  face. 

"  Well,  what  about  Belphegor  ?  " 

"  It's  the  deuce  of  a  bit  of  bad  luck  that  the  brute 
should  be  in  the  paddock  when  Lord  Verschoyle  and 
Gleeson  came.  Gleeson's  bound  to  spot  him." 

"  What  of  that  ?  No  one  knows  that  you  sold  him 
to  me,  and  that  he's  been  at  the  Owl's  Nest  until  a  week 
or  so  since." 

"  No  one  know  ?  Parsons  knew.  He  saw  you  work 
your  magic  on  the  horse,  and  he  was  in  the  stables  when 
you  rode  him  away." 

"  Yes,  but  he  doesn't  know  that  Belphegor's  mine." 

"  No,  he  doesn't  know  that.     No  one  does." 

"  Well,  why  shouldn't  I  have  taken  the  horse  to  the 
Owl's  Nest  to  complete  the  training  process.  I've 
returned  him  to  you  now  that  I'm  satisfied.  Can't  you 
see  how  it  works  out  ?  " 

"  Yes — but — well  nothing  can  be  done.  Belphegor's 
entered  for  the  Derby,  and  I  want  him  to  win  for  your 
sake.  /  know  and  you  know  what  he  can  do,  but  no  one 
else  must,  or  our  pitch'll  be  queered — I  mean  so  far  as 
our  bets  are  concerned." 

"  I  thought  you  never  betted,  Peter." 

"  I'm  going  to  break  my  rule.  I'm  in  with  you  Miss, 
you  know.  But  I  must  get  back  to  his  lordship.  I  can 
see  he's  fidgetting.  Do  come  with  me,  Miss  Violetta, 
and  put  in  a  word  for  Tom  All  worth." 

"  All  right.  But  we  must  be  artful.  His  lordship 
may  bolt  when  the  subject's  introduced." 

"  Not  with  you,  Miss,  a  guiding  him." 

"  Well,  we'll  see." 

And  the  two  marched  across  the  paddock  to  where  his 
lordship  was  impatiently  awaiting  them. 


172          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  Confound  it,  Gumley,  I  was  beginning  to  think 
you'd " 

And  then  his  eyes  fell  on  Violetta's  winsome  face,  and 
he  came  at  once  under  the  spell  of  her  smite.  He  raised 
his  hat. 

"  I  excuse  you,  Gumley.  You  had  every  reason  for 
delaying." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Violetta  and  his  features 
relaxed  pleasantly. 

"  A  neighbour  of  yours,  my  lord,"  said  Peter.  "  Miss 
Violetta  Vaughan  of  the  Owl's  Nest." 

"  I  congratulate  myself  on  my  good  luck,"  said  Lord 
Verschoyle,  and  he  held  out  his  hand,  which  Violetta 
took. 

"  Miss  Vaughan  is  one  of  the  best  judges  of  a  horse 
that  I  know,"  went  on  the  trainer.  "  She  saw  the  trial 
spin  just  now  and  she'll  give  you  her  opinion." 

"  If  you  care  to  have  it,"  said  Violetta  frankly. 

"  Care  ?  of  course  I  care.  I'd  sooner  have  a  woman's 
opinion  than  a  man's  on  anything  in  this  world.  It's 
marvellous,  Miss  Vaughan,  how  keen  your  sex  is  in  going 
straight  to  the  point." 

"  Not  always,"  laughed  Violetta.  "  When  the  matter 
concerns  us  personally,  we  are  frightfully  biassed." 

"  Well,  in  this  case,  I  hope  you'll  be  impartial." 

"  I'll  try  to  be.     What  would  you  like  me  to  say  ?  " 

"  My  dear  youg  lady,  is  that  your  idea  of  impartiality  ? 
Gad,  it  isn't  what  /  like,  but  what  you  like.  Don't  be 
afraid  to  say  what's  in  your  mind.  You  saw  how  the 
grey,  which  was  supposed  to  be  an  inferior  horse  to  the 
chestnut,  turned  out  the  faster." 

"  Yes,  I  saw  that,  yet  I  should  think  with  proper  riding 
the  chestnut  should  have  won." 

"  There,  my  lord,  what  did  I  tell  you  ?  "  said  Gumley 
turning  to  the  nobleman. 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  Verschoyle  playfully.  "When 
you  experts  agree,  your  unanimity,  like  that  of  people 
on  the  stage,  is  wonderful.  But  your  reasons,  please." 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  173 

"  No,  you  must  accept  my  judgment  if  you  accept 
anything.  If  I  gave  you  my  reasons,  they  might  be 
worthless." 

"  Well,  anyhow,  I  suppose  I  may  take  it  that  with  such 
jockeying  as  to-day,  Killarney  wouldn't  pull  off  the  Two 
Thousand." 

"  I'm  sure  he  wouldn't,  especially  if  Tom  Allworth 
had  a  good  mount  against  him.  I'm  told  that  Tom  is 
considering  an  offer." 

"  The  devil  he  is.     Did  you  know  that  Peter  ?  " 

"  I've  heard  something  of  the  kind,"  said  the  trainer 
stolidly.  "  What  I  do  know  is  that  he's  not  fixed  up." 

"  I'd  give  anything  to  see  Tom  Allworth  on  that  lovely 
chestnut.  What  did  you  say  his  name  was,  Lord 
Verschoyle  ?  " 

"  Killarney." 

"  That  settles  it.  He  must  belong  to  dear  old  Ireland 
— like  myself.  My  mother  was  Irish." 

"  She  must  have  been  a  very  beautiful  woman." 

"  If  you  talk  like  that,  Lord  Verschoyle,  I  shall 
believe  that  you  also  have  Irish  blood  in  you.  You  have 
quite  the  Blarney  touch,"  said  Violetta  saucily. 

"  Have  I  ?  It  must  have  come  on  since  I've  been 
talking  to  you." 

Peter  Gumley  chuckled  to  himself. 

44  Wheedled  him  into  a  good  humour,"  he  muttered. 
"  I  knew  she  would." 

"  Well,  we  needn't  discuss  Ireland.  It's  a  forbidden 
subject  to  most  English  people.  The  point  is  Tom 
Allworth  and  Killarney.  Who  are  you  putting  on  my 
dear  Irish  horse  ?  " 

"  Well,  we've  not  decided." 

"  Oh,  that's  splendid,"  exclaimed  Violetta  clapping 
her  hands.  "  Then  you  must  engage  Tom  Allworth. 
It  would  be  a  real  treat  to  see  him  romp  in  a  couple  of 
lengths  ahead." 

"  H'm— h'm— " 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  asked  Violetta  with  a 


174          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

mocking  smile.  "  I  take  back  what  I  said  just  now 
about  your  lordship's  possible  Irish  origin.  I  believe 
you're  from  north  of  the  Tweed.  H'm — h'm — is 
Scottish  for  everything,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  You're  a  witch,  Miss  Vaughan.  My  grandmother 
was  Scottish.  So  you'd  like  to  see  Tom  Allworth  in 
Killarney's  saddle  ?  " 

"  I  should  love  it." 

"  Then  by  jove  you  shall.  Peter,  Miss  Vaughan 's 
talked  me  over.  I  can't  resist  her.  See  Tom  and  make 
the  best  arrangements  you  can  with  him. 

Then  wheeling  round  to  Violetta,  he  said  with  an  air 
of  gallantry,  which  sat  well  upon  him,  after  a  rapid 
glance  at  her  semi-masculine  riding  costume,  and  at  the 
whip  in  her  hand. 

"  I  see  you  have  ridden  here.  May  I  have  the  honour 
of  escorting  you  part  of  the  way  to  the  Owl's  Nest — 
that  is  if  you're  going  there  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Thank  you  very  much." 

Lord  Verschoyle  liked  the  simplicity  and  directness 
of  her  manner.  There  was  nothing  of  the  coy  maiden 
about  her,  and  he  wondered  what  her  age  was. 

"  She  doesn't  look  a  day  older  than  twenty-one.  But 
hang  it,  who  can  tell  what  a  woman's  age  is  now-a-days," 
was  his  thought. 

He  admired  also  the  frank  way  with  which  she 
accepted  his  assistance  to  mount  her  pony,  though  he 
was  quite  sure  she  did  not  need  it. 

Soon  they  were  side  by  side,  Violetta  considerately 
walking  her  pony.  She  was  rather  taken  by  the  bluff, 
stand-no-nonsense  manner  of  the  military  nobleman, 
and  she  had  not  the  slightest  objection  to  a  chat  with 
him.  It  was  so  long  since  she  had  talked  to  a  gentle- 
man, and  she  knew  one  when  she  saw  one — no  woman 
better.  v  _••* 

"  That's  a  pretty  pony  of  yours.  Nice  easy  action. 
And  if  I  may  make  so  personal  a  remark  you  sit  your 


A    QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK  175 

saddle  to  perfection.  I  don't  mean  to  compliment  you 
— it's  a  simple  fact." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  as  I've  been  told  the  same  thing 
before.  But  its  nothing  extraordinary  seeing  I've  been 
accustomed  to  riding  ever  since  I  can  remember  any- 
thing." 

"  The  deuce  you  have.  Well  I  envy  you.  I  don't 
think  I  straddled  a  horse  before  I  left  Eton.  Ever 
hunt  ?  " 

'  Yes,  a  little." 

"  In  this  part  of  the  country  ?  " 

Violetta  paused  for  a  moment.  She  wondered  if  it 
would  be  prudent  to  mention  that  she  had  ridden  with 
Sir  John  Norman's  hounds.  She  decided  she  would 
keep  silence. 

"  I  can't  quite  remember.  I  hunted  a  little  in 
France." 

"  Ah,  that's  interesting.  A  bit  of  difference,  I  guess, 
between  French  and  English  hunting." 

Violetta  admitted  that  there  was,  and  as  soon  as 
possible  changed  the  subject  in  which  she  was  assisted 
by  a  fit  of  plaj'ful  rebellion  on  the  part  of  Bruce,  her 
pony. 

Bruce  was  more  than  usually  restive.  He  reared,  he 
threw  back  his  head  with  an  impatient  jerk,  he  moved 
when  he  so  condescended,  at  awkward  angles,  he  went 
through  a  performance  as  if  he  was  treading  on  hot 
plates. 

Lord  Verschoyle  was  at  first  prompted  to  go  to  her 
assistance,  but  he  saw  that  the  young  horsewoman  was 
perfectly  cool  and  collected,  and  he  contented  himself 
with  watching  her.  Soon  she  had  the  pony  quite  gentle 
and  subdued.  She  had  never  once  lost  her  control  over 
him. 

"  By  jove,"  called  out  his  lordship,  "  you  know  some- 
thing. Bravo  !  And  you  never  once  used  the 
whip." 

"I  never  do,     I  don't  believe  in  it," 


176 

"  Well,  you  may  be  right,  but — well  that  isn't  ray  way 
with  a  stubborn  and  tricky  brute  like  that." 

"  You're  not  stubborn  and  you're  not  tricky  are  you, 
dear  ?  " 

She  bent  on  Bruce's  neck  and  stroked  his  mane. 

"  Well,  if  he  isn't,  he's  uncommonly  near  being  both. 
Take  care  he  doesn't  get  you  unawares  some  day  and 
throw  you." 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  of  that.  He's  really  only  got 
one  real  fault." 

"  Oh,  you  admit  that,  do  you  ?  And  what  may  that 
fault  be?" 

"  Well,  he  has  an  unpleasant  habit  of  stopping  at 
every  public  house  he  comes  to,"  said  Violetta  gravely. 

Lord  Verschoyle  burst  into  a  Homeric  fit  of  laughter. 

"  Of  course.  Its  a  sign  of  his  intelligence,"  she  went 
on  gravely. 

"  How's  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  his  last  owner  was  a  butcher,  and  I 
suspect  the  butcher's  man  got  him  into  the  habit.  As 
I  don't  happen  to  be  in  the  butchering  trade,  the  habit's 
somewhat  embarrassing,  but  I  hope  to  cure  him 
of  it." 

"  And  I  don't  doubt  you'll  succeed.  I  don't  mind 
betting  a  '  monkey '  that  you'd  succeed  in  anything 
you'd  a  mind  to." 

"  Well,  I  should  try,  of  course." 

Once  more  the  horses  were  walking  quietly  enough, 
and  the  talk  and  interchange  of  rallies  went  on  gaily. 

Then  they  came  to  the  steep  path  leading  up  to  the 
Owl's  Nest. 

"  I'll  bid  you  good  day  here,  please,"  said  Violetta. 

"  Mayn't  I  come  up  the  hill  with  you  ?  " 

"  No.  Your  horse  isn't  used  to  it,  and  my  pony  is. 
Besides,  I've  taken  you  a  sufficient  distance  out  of  your 
way." 

"  That  doesn't  matter  a  bit.  I'd  ride  any  number  of 
miles  for  the  sake  of  your  company." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  177 

"I'm  not  going  to  test  your  endurance.  I  should 
bore  you  to  death." 

"  By  the  lord " 

The  nobleman  stopped.  Some  foolishness  was  on  the 
tip  of  his  tongue.  Though  he  had  escaped  the  chains  of 
matrimony,  he  had  had  his  love  affairs,  serious  and 
flimsy,  and  though  arrived  at  middle  age,  he  was  not 
averse  to  a  flirtation. 

Possibly  Violetta  read  his  thoughts.  She  shot  him  an 
enigmatical  smile  and  set  her  pony  at  a  canter  *p  the 
ascent. 

"  Would  it  be  a  liberty  if  some  day  I  called  at  the 
Owl's  Nest  ?  "  he  shouted  after  her. 

She  turned  her  head  towards  him,  but  whether  she 
shook  it  or  nodded  he  could  not  quite  determine.  At 
any  rate,  she  gave  him  no  answer. 

"  Provoking,  bewitching  hussy,"  was  his  lordship's 
comment  as  he  rode  away. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
A  MEMORY  OF  MONTE  CARLO 

IT  was  the  day  of  the  Two  Thousand.  The  crowd  which 
assembles  at  Newmarket  on  this  occasion  is  but  a 
handful  compared  with  that  which  streams  to  Epsom 
by  road  and  rail  on  the  Derby  Day.  The  event  is  purely 
a  sporting  one,  and  the  bulk  of  the  spectators  are  more 
or  less  interested  in  the  result  pecuniarily. 

The  paddock  was  fairly  thronged,  and  here  was  a  good 
sprinkling  of  turf  habitues.  Westoby  was  there,  looking 
stonier  and  more  saturnine  than  ever.  The  news  that 
Tom  All  worth  was  to  ride  the  favourite  had  disturbed 
him  considerably,  the  more  so  because  the  intimation 
had  only  leaked  out  at  the  eleventh  hour.  He  had 

M 


178  A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

made  his  book  on  the  strength  of  Killarney  losing, 
and  there  was  not  time  to  hedge. 

Peter  Gumley  looked  on  cool  and  imperturbable,  and 
was  perfectly  impervious  to  Westoby's  overtures  of 
affability.  For  some  reason,  the  bookmaker  seemed 
anxious  to  make  up  old  differences  with  the  trainer. 
Lord  Verschoyle  was  bluff  and  boisterous  as  usual,  but 
he  was  nervous  all  the  same. 

Not  far  from  the  judge's  box,  leaning  against  a  post 
which  supported  the  rope,  was  Mr.  Barney  Moss,  to- 
gether with  a  group  of  companions  as  flashy-looking  and 
as  loudly  dressed  as  himself. 

"  What  ought  we  to  win  over  this,  Barney  ?  "  asked 
a  short,  red-faced  young  man,  in  a  covert-coat  and  bowler 
hat. 

"  Five  thou',  clean  as  a  whistle.  Killarney  can't 
lose." 

"  And  over  the  Derby  ?  "  went  on  the  red-faced  in- 
dividual, with  a  wink. 

"  Wait  till  it  comes,"  said  Barney,  shortly.  "  Don't 
you  open  your  mouth  too  wide  over  the  Derby,  Buttons, 
old  man,  or  you  may  spoil  the  game." 

At  this  moment  up  stalked  Ned  Strangeways,  shabbily 
dressed,  dark  man,  with  a  dirty  bird's-eye  scarf  round 
his  neck,  with  an  enormous  pin  stuck  in  it." 

"  Mossy,"  said  Strangeways,  a  well-known  bookie, 
in  an  excited  whisper  "  are  you  sure  you're  on  the  right 
tack  with  Killarney  ?  " 

"  Sure  ?  D'ye  think  I'm  a  juggins  1 "  returned 
Mr.  Moss,  scornfully. 

"  I've  the  tip  that  the  winner  is  Quicksand — blue 
with  silver  stripes." 

"  If  you  don't  believe  what  I  say,"  went  on  Strange- 
ways,  "  ask  Peter  Gumley.  Quicksand  comes  from  his 
stables." 

"A  fat  lot  one's  likely  to  get  out  of  Peter.  He's  as 
close  as  they  make  'em,"  retorted  Barney.  "  I'll  bet 
any  money  that  Quicksand's  entered  to  make  the  running 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE  PADDOCK  179 

for  Killarney.  Bah  !  it's  all  rot.  Do  you  imagine 
I  don't  know  a  thing  or  two  ?  Shut  up — here  come 
the  horses." 

It  was  the  preliminary  canter.  Killarney  stood  out 
from  the  lot  by  his  beautiful  symmetry  of  form  and  his 
grand  action.  Still,  after  the  intelligence  brought  by 
Strangeways,  it  was  only  natural  that  the  blue  and  silver 
stripes  should  attract  a  little  attention. 

All  this  time  Barney  Moss  had  got  his  eyes  fixed  on 
Quicksand's  Jockey.  There  was  something  in  the 
jockey's  face  which  haunted  and  puzzled  him. 

"  If  I  didn't  know  it  couldn't  be,"  he  muttered,  "  I'd 
swear  that  was  Tim  Hollis." 

However,  there  was  no  possibility  of  satisfying  his 
doubts,  for  the  horses  were  half-way  down  the  course 
on  the  way  to  the  starting  post. 

There  was  the  usual  interval  of  expectation,  and  then 
a  shout  of  "  They're  off  !  "  went  up.  Barney  Moss, 
who  had  come  down  to  Newmarket  in  a  motor,  was 
standing  in  the  driver's  seat,  and,  armed  with  a  big 
field  glass,  watched  the  race  intently. 

The  start  was  a  very  good  one.  The  horses  went  off 
in  a  cluster,  and  for  a  hundred  yards  or  so  it  was  difficult 
to  tell  which  was  first.  Then  a  chestnut  got  away 
from  the  ruck,  and  some  backer  of  this  particular  animal 
yelled  enthusiastically  :  "  Birdcage  wins  for  a  hundred  !  " 

"  Birdcage,  be  hanged  !  "  said  Moss.  "  Why,  he's 
challenged  already." 

And  so  he  was  by  two  horses — one  was  Killarney, 
the  other  was  the  "  dark  "  horse,  the  outsider,  Quick- 
sand. 

Suddenly  Moss  uttered  an  oath.  Quicksand  was 
forging  ahead  ;  if  he  could  only  stay  he  must  win. 
Killarney  was  close  behind,  and  with  that  clever  con- 
summate horseman,  Tom  Allworth  on  his  back,  no 
one  could  say  what  might  happen.  Certain  it  was 
that  the  half-length  which  divided  the  first  and  second 
horse  was  being  maintained, 


i8o          A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

But  as  they  neared  the  judge's  box  the  skill  of  All  worth 
was  shown.  He  called  upon  his  horse,  and  Killarney 
gamely  answered.  No  one  knew  exactly  how  it  was 
done,  but  somehow  Killarney  was  landed  on  the  post 
the  winner  by  a  short  head  of  the  Two  Thousand. 

A  great  roar  went  up  from  the  crowd,  for  the  victory 
of  Killarney  was  popular  ;  but  two  or  three  knowing 
ones  shook  their  heads  and  said  it  was  a  good  thing 
the  rider  of  Quicksand  was  not  as  good  a  jockey  as 
Tom  Allworth,  or  he  must  have  won. 

Directly  the  result  was  known,  Barney  Moss  jumped 
from  his  seat  on  the  motor  with  the  object  of  satisfying 
his  doubts  as  to  Quicksand's  jockey.  The  latter,  how- 
ever, had  disappeared,  and  Moss  did  not  trouble  much 
about  the  matter,  seeing  that  his  end — the  victory  of 
Killarney — had  been  achieved. 

There  was  not  less  excitement  in  the  grand  stand 
than  among  the  crowd  below,  and  Lord  Verschoyle 
was  warmly  congratulated  by  his  friends  on  Killarney 's 
win,  and  his  lordship  received  these  congratulations 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  passed  successfully 
through  an  anxious  ordeal. 

"  Thanks,  boys,"  said  he.  "  I  hope  you'll  all  put 
money  in  your  pocket." 

"  As  it's  turned  out,  it's  all  right,"  laughed  Sir  Fred- 
erick Dartnell,  an  old  comrade  of  Lord  Verschoyle  in 
the  Guards,  "  but  by  Jupiter,  it  was  a  near  thing.  No 
other  man  in  England  but  Tom  Allworth  could  have 
snatched  victory  right  on  the  post.  Who's " 

"Excuse  me,  Dartnell,  but  I  see  a  friend  yonder 
I  want  to  have  a  word  with." 

His  lordship  had  caught  sight  of  Violetta,  who,  very 
quietly  and  unobtrusively  dressed,  was  sitting  in  a 
dark  corner  which  she  had  purposely  chosen,  as  she 
did  not  want  to  be  recognised  by  George  Godfree,  who 
she  made  sure,  would  be  somewhere  on  the  course. 

After  the  race  was  over,  she  had  risen  to  find  her 
way  to  the  railway  station.  She  had  no  interest  in 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          181 

anything  but  the  running  of  Killarney  and  Quicksand, 
and  did  not  care  even  to  congratulate  Peter  Gumley 
and  Tim  Hollis.  She  could  do  that  easily  enough  on 
her  return  to  the  Owl's  Nest. 

But  her  intention  of  slipping  away  unobserved  was 
baulked  by  Lord  Verschoyle,  whom  she  saw  squeezing 
through  the  crowd  towards  her. 

"  I've  only  just  caught  sight  of  you,  Miss  Vaughan," 
said  he,  holding  out  both  his  hands  and  his  face  beaming. 
"  To  think  of  meeting  you  here  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  You  know  how  I  love  to  see  horses 
run." 

"  Yes,  but " 

"  Well,  what  about  the  but  ?  " 

"Oh,  it's  not  quite  'but,'  its  'bet.'  Silly  joke.  I 
apologise.  What  I  mean  is,  do  you  back  your  fancies  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,"  rejoined  Violetta,  composedly.  "  What's 
right  for  a  man  is,  I  suppose,  right  for  a  woman." 

"  H'm — well,  I'm  not  going  to  argue — you  always 
get  the  best  of  it.  Anyhow,  right  or  wrong,  I've  reason 
to  thank  you.  Gad,  but  for  your  sticking  up  for  Tom 
Allworth,  I  don't  believe  I'd  have  climbed  down.  Had 
any  other  jockey  been  in  his  place,  I  stood  to  lose  £10,000. 
As  it  is,  I've  won  £20,000." 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it.  A  mistake  though, 
wasn't  it,  to  plunge  so  heavily." 

"  Perhaps,  but  it  happens  to  be  my  way  in  every- 
thing I  do.  I  must  go  the  whole  hog,  you  know.  And 
that  brings  me  to  what's  uppermost  in  my  mind.  My 
mother  gives  a  dinner  party  the  week  after  the  Derby, 
and  I'm  going  to  ask  her  to  send  you  an  invita- 
tion." 

"  Please  don't." 

In  spite  of  herself,  a  look  of  dismay  crept  over  her  face. 

"  I  shall  quote  your  own  words — why  not  ?  " 

"  I  rarely  go  to  dinner  parties.  I  prefer  my  own  quiet 
life,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  dragged  out  of  it.  Besides, 
I*m  quite  sure  your  mother  wouldn't  like  me." 


i82          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  What  on  earth  does  that  matter  ?  I  like  you,  and 
that's  everything." 

This  blunt  announcement  was  quite  in  accordance  with 
Lord  Verschoyle's  temperament,  and  Violetta  did  not 
attach  much  importance  to  it.  Certainly,  it  did  not  dis- 
please her. 

"  Your  liking  me  surely  doesn't  involve  me  in  going 
through  the  ordeal  of  a  full  dress  dinner  party,"  she 
retorted  laughingly.  "I'm  much  too  ingrained  a 
Bohemian  to  feel  at  home  in  anything  out  of  my  nomadic 
habits." 

"  But  it's  just  that  spice  of  Bohemianism  which 
makes  you  so  charming.  Now,  merely  to  please  me, 
do  accept  my  mother's  hospitality.  I've  a  particular 
reason  for  wanting  you  to  know  her." 

"  And  may  I  enquire  the  reason  ?  " 

"  Just  my  whim,  that's  all." 

"  Not  good  enough,  Lord  Verschoyle.  I've  never 
subjected  myself  to  the  whim  of  anyone,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  begin." 

Lord  Verschoyle  was  not  deaf  to  the  tone  of  hauteur 
which  had  crept  into  Violetta's  voice. 

'  You're  right,"  said  he,  after  a  pause.  "  I  apologise. 
Don't  be  angry.  At  the  same  tune — well,  I  wish  you 
weren't  so  dashed  independent." 

"  Sorry,  but  I'm  afraid  I  can't  alter." 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to  alter.  I  wouldn't  have  you 
anything  different  from  what  you  are.  But  I  hate  un- 
certainties. Do  you  mind  telling  me  right  out  what 
answer  you'll  send  my  mother  if  she  does  write 
you." 

"  I  shall  thank  her,  of  course,  acknowledge  the  honour, 
etcetera,  but  point  out  that  as  a  perfect  stranger  to 
her  ladyship,  I  could  not  accept  her  kind  invitation." 

The  handsome  face  of  the  nobleman  was  clouded. 

"  She  won't  like  that.  It'll  look  like  a  snub,"  said 
he,  quickly. 

"  There's  an  easy  way  of  avoiding  all  unpleasantness. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  183 

You  needn't  say  a  word  to  her  about  me.  I'm  very 
certain  she'd  feel  embarrassed  if  you  do.  /  should 
feel  so  under  similar  circumstances." 

"  I  wish  you  women  were  not  so  like  cats,"  he  blurted 
out. 

"  Thank  you." 

"  Well,  you  know  what  I  mean.  Your  claws  are 
always  ready  to  scratch  one  another." 

His  lordship  was  unquestionably  disappointed  and 
inclined  to  be  snappy,  as  Violetta  saw  plainly  enough. 

"  I  fancy  men  have  claws,  too,"  said  she,  quite  un- 
disturbed. "  I  won't  retaliate — just  to  show  you 
I'm  not  what  you've  accused  me  of  being." 

The  cloud  cleared  away.  Lord  Verschoyle  was  no 
sulker. 

"  You're  an  awfully  good  sort,  Violetta — I  may  call 
you,  Violetta,  mayn't  I  ? — but  confoundedly  obstinate. 
I'm  obstinate  too,  and  I  tell  you  straight  that  some  day 
my  mother  shall  know  you,  and  I  don't  mind  proph- 
esying that  she'll  like  you  as  much  as  I  do.  But  we'll 
say  no  more  about  the  dinner  party  since  you  don't 
care  for  it.  Have  I  pleased  you  ?  " 

"I'm  very  grateful." 

"  As  a  reward,  may  I  call  upon  you  ?  I  asked  your 
permission  once  before,  if  you  remember,  but  you 
neither  gave  nor  refused  it." 

"  I  can't  prevent  your  calling,  I  suppose." 

"  That's  sufficient.  Thanks.  You're  not  leaving, 
are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  don't  want  to  spoil  the  recollection  of  that 
splendid  Two  Thousand  race  by  seeing  any  other.  I'm 
going  to  the  railway  station." 

"  Then  I'll  go  with  you  if  you've  no  objection.  My 
car  is  at  your  service." 

He  seemed  so  desirous  of  doing  the  amiable,  that 
Violetta  hadn't  the  heart  to  disappoint  him.  After 
all,  his  society  and  his  rough  and  ready  speech  were  very 
agreeable.  He  had  not  attempted  to  pay  her  fulsome 


184          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

compliments,  a  form  of  masculine  homage  which  she 
thoroughly  abhorred. 

Verschoyle  escorted  her  from  the  grand  stand,  and 
they  edged  their  way  through  the  crowd  at  the  entrance. 

Just  as  they  emerged,  Violetta  heard  a  hoarse  strident 
laugh  which  she  knew  well  enough,  and  she  turned  her 
head  aside  to  avoid  being  recognised  by  George  Godfree. 

But  she  was  too  late.  He  had  seen  her.  She  was 
not  going  to  show  she  was  afraid  of  him,  and  she  went 
on  resolutely. 

Godfree  had  a  reputation  for  impudence  which  his 
conduct  fully  justified.  He  knew  Lord  Verschoyle  by 
sight  quite  well,  but  this  made  no  difference — indeed, 
it.  rather  provoked  him  to  annoy  Violetta.  He  came 
close  to  her. 

"  Mercy  on  us,"  she  heard  him  say.  "  How  proud 
we  have  grown.  It's  not  like  you,  Violetta,  to  forget 
old  friends." 

She  felt  intensely  angry  at  the  fellow's  insolence.  She 
wouldn't  have  cared  a  bit  had  she  been  alone,  but  it  was 
horribly  humiliating  for  her  to  know  that  Lord  Ver- 
schoyle should  be  made  aware  that  she  was  acquainted 
with  so  disreputable  a  blackguard  as  George  Godfree. 

In  the  contemptuous  glance  she  cast  at  him  she  saw 
that  Godfree  had  further  deteriorated  since  she  last 
met  him.  Not  indeed  in  his  dress  ;  for  his  clothes  were 
of  the  latest  cut  and  had  evidently  been  made  by  a 
Bond  Street  tailor.  But  his  face  ! 

Godfree  had  been  "  touching  "  money  of  late  since 
his  association  with  Dan  Westoby,  and  he  had  been 
living  like  a  fighting  cock.  The  results  were  seen 
in  his  blotched  bloated  cheeks,  his  watery  eyes,  and  his 
loose  lips.  Violetta  looked  at  him  in  disgust. 

Then  her  expression  changed.  By  the  side  of  Godfree 
was  a  man  whose  hard,  colourless  face,  cold  eyes,  and 
thin  lips,  carried  her  memory  back  to  Monte  Carlo — 
to  that  eventful  night  when  for  the  last  time  in  her 
life  she  acted  as  a  mascotte  at  the  gaming  table. 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          185 

The  man  on  whom  her  gaze  was  resting  was  he  for 
whom  she  won  £500,  half  of  which  he  had  insisted  upon 
handing  over  to  her.  Nothing  but  dire  necessity  had 
induced  her  to  accept  it,  and  it  had  remained  a  burden 
on  her  mind  ever  since. 

She  had  often  longed  for  the  opportunity  of  returning 
it,  but  how  was  it  to  be  done  when  she  did  not  know 
the  name  of  the  man,  or  where  he  was  to  be  found  ? 

And  here  he  was  raising  his  hat  to  her,  a  cold  smile 
lighting  up  his  flinty  face.  She  could  not  do  otherwise 
than  acknowledge  the  salutation,  and  she  did  so  with 
the  slightest  possible  inclination  of  her  head.  Godfree 
she  simply  ignored. 

"  Will  you  hurry,  please,"  she  whispered  to  Lord 
Verschoyle."  "  I  want  to  get  away  from  these  men." 

Verschoyle  was  much  too  chivalrous  a  gentleman 
not  to  come  to  her  rescue  whatever  he  might  think 
of  her  knowing  such  riff-raff  of  the  turf  as  George  Godfree. 
He  slipped  her  hand  beneath  his  arm  as  if  to  challenge 
the  others  to  question  his  right  of  possession. 

Not  a  word  passed  until  they  were  within  the  motor. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  explain  why 
those  two  men  recognised  me,"  said  she. 

"  Certainly  not.    Why  should  you  ?     I'm  not  curious." 

"  That  I  quite  believe.  Well,  some  day  I  may  tell 
you.  Mr.  Godfree  I  know  to  be  a  dishonourable, 
treacherous  man.  I've  nothing  to  do  with  him,  yet 
for  some  reason  he  chooses  to  be  offensive  whenever 
we  chance  to  meet  as  we  did  just  now.  His  companion 
I  can't  say  I  know  anything  of.  I  met  him  once  abroad, 
and  that  is  the  extent  of  our  acquaintance." 

"  I  congratulate  you.  Dan  Westoby's  not  a  very 
desirable  man  to  have  for  a  friend.  I  doubt  if  he  has 
one." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lord  Verschoyle.  What  did 
you  say  his  name  was  ?  " 

"  Dan  Westoby.  He's  well  known  on  every  race 
course.  Better  known  than  trusted,  I  should  say. 


i86 

More  than  one  man's  had  reason  to  curse  his  acquaint- 
anceship, poor  Sir  John  Norman  among  the  number. 
How  the  deuce  he  managed  to  let  the  scoundrel  get 
hold  of  Normanhurst,  I  can't  make  out.  It  was  a 
swindle,  I'll  swear.  You  know  Normanhurst,  of  course, 
Miss  Vaughan.  It's  not  more  than  ten  miles  from  the 
Owl's  Nest." 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  place,"  said  Violetta,  in  a  subdued 
voice. 

"  Norman's  one  of  the  best  of  fellows,  but  an  awful 
fool  in  some  things.  He  was  beastly  unlucky  in  his 
marriage." 

"  So  I've  heard." 

"  Ever  met  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  haven't  seen  him  for  a  long  time." 

There  was  no  earthly  reason  apparently  why  they 
should  talk  about  Norman,  but  Violetta  instinctively 
guessed  Lord  Verschoyle's  motive.  He  wanted  to 
avoid  causing  her  embarrassment  by  any  reference  to 
her  unfortunate  recognition  of  two  undesirables  and 
she  was  grateful  to  him  for  his  tact. 

They  reached  the  station,  Violetta  was  conscious 
of  a  restraint  in  Lord  Verschoyle's  manner.  She  was  not 
surprised,  but  all  the  same  she  felt  intensely  mortified. 
Not  that  it  mattered,  she  told  herself.  What  was 
Lord  Verschoyle  to  her  ?  The  present  was  but  the 
second  time  she  had  met  him.  No,  it  was  of  no  con- 
sequence, and  after  a  few  hours  had  gone  by  she  would 
probably  forget  the  unpleasant  episode. 

But  in  her  heart  she  knew  it  wouldn't  be  so.  Some- 
how she  wanted  to  stand  well  in  Lord  Verschoyle's 
sight,  but  had  she  been  asked  to  say  why,  she  would 
have  found  it  difficult  to  answer  the  question.  Lord 
Verschoyle's  last  utterances  did  not  add  to  her 
tranquillity. 

"  We  shall  be  running  across  each  other  again,  I  hope, 
Miss  Vaughan.  These  chance  meetings  have  a  charm 
of  their  own." 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          187 

"  Indeed  they  have.  The  unexpected  is  some- 
times pleasant — or  the  reverse — more  often  the  re- 
verse." 

She  had  no  sooner  left  fall  the  words  than  she  wished 
she  could  have  recalled  them.  They  sounded  like  a 
reference  to  what  had  happened,  and  as  though  the 
incident  was  still  rankling  in  her  mind,  whereas  all  along 
she  had  been  trying  to  make  it  appear  that  she  regarded 
it  with  indifference. 

Lord  Verschoyle  put  her  into  a  carriage  when  the 
train  came  up,  and  stood  at  the  window  until  the  guard's 
whistle  was  heard. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  as  he  raised  his  hat,  "  I  suppose  our 
next  excitement  will  be  the  Derby.  You  gave  me 
such  good  advice  over  Killarney's  mount  to-day  that 
I  shall  be  tempted  to  seek  it  again  if  I'm  in  a  difficulty. 
Au  revoir." 

All  very  nice,  very  flattering,  very  friendly — in  a 
way — but  it  had  not  the  bluff  heartiness  of  Lord  Ver- 
schoyle's  usual  speech. 

Violetta  sat  back  in  her  seat  and  sighed  wearily.  The 
day  which  had  begun  so  joyously  had  ended  in  vexation 
of  spirit. 

"  All  is  vanity.  I  suppose  that's  what  everything 
in  this  world  comes  to,"  she  murmured.  "  I  wonder 
what  Lord  Verschoyle  would  have  thought  had  I  agreed 
to  accept  his  mother's  invitation.  I'm  glad  I  didn't. 
It  might  have  forced  me  to  give  some  explanation  how 
I  came  to  know  those  two  men.  I  doubt  if  I  should 
have  the  courage  to  tell  him  the  truth." 

It  was  odd  the  thought  should  cross  her  mind  that 
had  Lord  Verschoyle  been  Sir  John  Norman,  she  would 
not  have  the  same  timidity.  Yet  Norman  hated  racing, 
and  all  its  associations  ;  and  with  the  nobleman  it 
was  just  the  reverse.  Was  it  because  Norman  was  as 
Lord  Verschoyle  put  it,  "  an  awful  fool  ?  " 

But  she  did  not  trouble  to  decide  the  point.    Dan 


i88          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

Westoby's  pallid  face — expressionless  save  for  a  certain 
suggestion  of  malignance — came  into  her  memory  and 
drove  out  everything  else. 

To  think  that  she  was  under  an  obligation  to  this 
unscrupulous  trickster,  who  was  held  in  utter  contempt 
by  honest,  straight-going  racing  men,  was  abhorrent,  and 
her  self  reproaches  were  all  the  more  bitter  because  it 
was  he  who  had  ruined  Sir  John  Norman. 

There  was  really  nothing  in  her  past  life  which  was 
personally  to  her  discredit.  It  was  rather  the  other 
way  about.  Considering  her  surroundings  at  the  Beak 
Street.  Club,  and  her  associations  and  temptations  in 
Paris  and  Monte  Carlo,  the  marvel  was  that  she  had 
passed  through  such  vicious  circles  unscathed.  Her 
knowledge  of  the  seamy  side  of  life  had  made  her  a 
little  cynical,  but  with  that  cynicism  had  come  a  tolerence 
of  the  weaknesses  of  human  nature  which  kept  her 
heart  open  to  sympathy  and  generous  impulses. 

But  what  would  outsiders  think— «ven  those  who 
might  be  charitably  disposed  towards  her  ?  If  all 
were  known,  women  would  pass  her  by  on  the  other 
side,  men  would  wink  and  smile  and  whisper  innuendoes. 
There  had  been  times  when  Violetta  would  not  have 
cared  a  jot  what  the  world  said  about  her,  but  then 
she  was  of  no  importance  to  herself. 

It  was  different  now  ;  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
felt  frightened.  What  a  hold  these  two  men  George 
Godfree  and  Dan  Westoby  had  over  her  if  they  chose 
to  open  their  mouths  !  Between  them  they  practically 
knew  everything.  Godfree  could  tell  tales  of  the  Beak 
Street  Club,  and  place  his  own  construction  upon 
them.  Westoby  had  doubtless  heard  all  the  slanderous 
gossip  at  Monte  Carlo  concerning  her. 

She  might  steel  herself  against  slander  but  not  against 
the  truth.  She  could  not  contradict  the  fact  that 
Westoby  had  given  her  £250.  Why  ?  For  acting  as  a 
mascotte  and  enabling  him  to  win  £500  !  Who  would 
believe  such  a  fairy  tale  ?  Violetta  went  hot  and 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  189 

cold  at  the  interpretation  which  the  malicious  might 
put  upon  the  transaction. 

"  I'll  not  be  in  his  debt  a  moment  longer  than  I  can 
help — even  if  it  involves  my  disclosing  that  I'm  the 
tenant  of  the  Owl's  Nest.  I'd  rather  that  Westoby 
did  not  know  my  address,  but " 

She  stopped.  The  thought  of  another  danger  had 
suddenly  faced  her.  Westoby  had  probably  made 
himself  intimately  acquainted  with  Sir  John  Norman's 
affairs.  Supposing  he  knew  that  Norman  owned  the 
Owl's  Nest  ?  What  conclusion  would  he  draw  from  the 
fact  that  she  was  living  there  ?  Violetta  had  accepted 
money  from  him,  why  shouldn't  she  accept  the  generosity 
of  Norman  ?  Not,  of  course,  as  a  mascot te  for  Norman 
had  had  anything  but  good  luck  but  for  some  other 
reason. 

The  position  was  intolerable,  and  made  all  the  more 
so  because  she  could  for  the  moment  see  no  way  of 
safely  extricating  herself. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
ELLA  ASSERTS  HERSELF 

VIOLETTA  was  busily  occupied  in  going  through  her 
accounts.  Her  bets  on  Killarney  figured  largely  in  them. 
She  had  won  over  £500, 

"  That  man  must  be  paid  back,"  she  decided.  "  The 
question  is,  how  am  I  to  get  it  to  him  ?  He  shan't 
come  here,  anyhow." 

It  seemed  to  be  a  case  of  the  mountain  going  to 
Mahomet.  Unpleasant,  but  there  was  no  alternative. 
She  meant  Westoby  to  give  her  a  receipt  and  that 
receipt  would  have  to  state  the  circumstances  under 
which  he  paid  her  the  money.  There  must  be  no  mistake 
about  that, 


igo          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

She  had  just  locked  up  her  books,  and  Mrs.  Stubbles 
had  entered  to  consult  her  as  to  lunch,  when  there  came 
the  loud  clang  of  the  outer  door  bell,  followed  by  an 
imperious  rat-tat  of  the  knocker. 

A  visitor  most  certainly.  Tradesmen  announced 
themselves  in  a  much  more  modest  way.  Violetta 
looked  at  Mrs.  Stubbles  and  Mrs.  Stubbles  looked  at 
her  mistress. 

For  a  minute  or  so  Violetta's  heart  beats  quickened. 
Could  the  visitor  be  Lord  Verschoyle  ?  Hardly.  He 
would  not  have  shown  so  much  impatience  and 
pomposity. 

"  Go  and  see  who  it  is,  Stubbles.  If  it  be  any  stranger 
be  sure  to  ask  their  business.  I'm  not  in  a  very  good 
humour  this  morning,  and  I  don't  feel  inclined  to  be 
bothered." 

Mrs.  Stubbles  was  not  disposed  to  offer  any  contradic- 
tion. She  had  already  noticed  Violetta's  mood.  She 
disappeared  and  Violetta  sat  expectantly.  Once  she 
glanced  at  the  mirror  and  then  shrugged  her  shoulders 
disdainfully  at  her  involuntary  lapse  into  feminine 
weakness.  The  impression  lurked  in  her  mind  that 
after  all  it  might  be  Lord  Verschoyle. 

She  heard  the  tones  of  a  high-pitched  voice,  and  the 
softer  accents  of  Mrs.  Stubbles  in  reply.  There  was 
something  in  the  strained  note  of  the  voice  that  seemed 
familiar,  but  she  could  not  fix  it.  Then  the  housekeeper 
came  into  the  room  looking  a  little  flurried. 

"  A  lady  wants  to  see  you,  Miss." 

"  Did  you  ask  her  name  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  said  it  didn't  matter.  She  must 
see  you  she  said — quite  snappy.  She  seems  put  out, 
and  nearly  jumped  down  my  throat. 

This  did  not  look  promising. 

"  I  suppose  you'd  better  show  her  in  here,  Stubbles. 
Though  I  hate  people  who  won't  give  their  names. 
They  nearly  always  come  on  some  unpleasant  busi- 
pess." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  191 

Mrs.  Stubbles  went  off,  and  presently  the  door  opened 
and  in  walked  Ella  Norman,  her  nose  in  the  air  and  a 
spot  of  scarlet  on  each  cheek.  Violetta,  who  knew  her 
thoroughly,  saw  that  she  had  worked  herself  into  a 
violent  passion. 

"  Well,  upon  my  word,"  burst  out  the  young  lady 
as  soon  as  her  rage  would  enable  her  to  speak.  But  she 
could  say  no  more. 

Violetta  looked  at  her  steadily,  and  showed  no  signs 
of  trepidation.  Indeed,  she  felt  none.  Ella  had  cer- 
tainly taken  her  by  surprise — that  was  all. 

"  Why  not  sit  down  ?  "  she  remarked.  "  You  might 
find  it  easier  to  explain  the  object  of  your  visit  when 
you're  comfortable." 

Violetta's  manner  and  voice  were  the  essence  of 
sweetness.  It  set  Ella's  passion  seething. 

"  The  object  of  my  visit  ?  I  should  have  thought 
you'd  have  guessed  it.  I — I — aren't  you  ashamed  of 
yourself  ?  "  she  almost  screamed. 

"  I  don't  think  so.  What  have  I  to  be  ashamed  of  ? 
If  that  question  is  all  that  has  brought  you  here,  you 
might  have  saved  yourself  the  trouble." 

"  I  couldn't  believe  my  ears  when  Mr.  Barlowe  told 
me  you  were  living  here." 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  I  must  live  somewhere,  I 
suppose." 

"  But  why  all  this  secrecy  ?  Why  didn't  you  write 
to  me?" 

"  Write  to  you  ?  After  you  virtually  turned  me  out 
of  your  house  ?  You're  talking  nonsense." 

"  Nonsense  ?  I  consider  your  conduct  disgraceful. 
Simply  shocking  !  " 

"  Does  it  matter  what  you  think  ?  " 

"  Answer  me  this — aren't  you — what  is  the  polite 
term  for  a  questionable  connection — under  John's 
protection  ?  I  suppose  you  know  what  I  mean  ?  " 

Violetta's  reply  was  to  strike  the  alarm  bell  which  was 
on,  the  table.  Mrs.  Stubbles  came  in  so  quickly  after 


192          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

the  summons  that  she  must  have  been  listening  outside 
the  door. 

"  Please  show  out  this  lady,  Stubbles,"  said  Violetta, 
coldly. 

"  Well,  of  all  the " 

"  I've  nothing  to  say  to  you.  I  refer  you  to  Mr. 
Barlowe  if  you  care  to  know  what  rent  I  pay." 

"  Rent !  I've  no  doubt  you  and  my  foolish  brother 
have  managed  the  thing  very  nicely.  I'm  quite  sure 
the  rent  doesn't  come  out  of  your  pocket." 

"  The  door,  please,  Stubbles." 

Violetta  rose  without  haste  and  walked  towards  the 
French  window  which  was  open.  Without  another  word 
she  went  into  the  garden  and  left  her  visitor  speechless 
with  indignation.  When  she  had  sufficiently  recovered 
herself  she  turned  to  the  housekeeper. 

"  Do  you  know  Sir  John  Norman  ?  "  she  demanded, 
haughtily. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  retorted  Mrs.  Stubbles,  who  was 
nothing  if  not  blunt.' 

"  I  don't  believe  you.  He  comes  here — under  another 
name,  most  likely." 

"  That's  false,  beggin'  your  pardon,  ma'am." 

"Doesn't  Miss  Vaughan  have  a  gentleman  visitor  ever?" 

"  I'm  not  here  to  answer  impertinent  questions.  If 
you  want  to  know  anything  about  Miss  Vaughan  you'd 
better  ask  Miss  Vaughan  herself.  So  far  as  I'm  con- 
cerned, I  may  tell  you  that  Miss  Vaughan  has  no  visitors, 
man  or  woman.  This  is  the  way  to  the  hall." 

She  opened  the  door  and  stood  there,  a  sturdy  janitor, 
Ella  would  have  dearly  liked  to  vent  her  rage  upon  an 
"  inferior,"  but  she  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  she 
would  get  from  this  buxom  independent  domestic  as 
good  as  she  gave,  and  perhaps  better,  so  she  pocketed 
her  wrath  and  marched  out  of  the  room.  Mrs.  Stubbles 
followed  her  and  shut  the  front  door  after  her  with  a 
slam  which  spoke  volumes  as  to  her  sentiments.  Then 
she  joined  her  mistress  in  the  garden, 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          193 

"  She's  gone  an'  a  good  thing.  Lor,  what  a  wax  she 
was  in,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stubbles  with  a  heave  of  her 
ample  bosom. 

Violetta  had  her  back  turned  to  the  woman.  When 
she  wheeled  round,  Mrs.  Stubbles  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
moist  and  shining. 

"  Don't  take  on  about  her,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stubbles 
sympathisingly.  "  I'll  warrant  you  gave  her  a  dressin' 
down  or  she  wouldn't  ha'  been  so  wild.  A  regular 
vixen  /  call  her.  But  there — well,  after  it's  all  over 
one  can't  help  givin'  way  a  bit.  I  s'pose  we  women 
are  built  that  way.  Maybe  it's  all  for  the  best." 

"  I  dare  say.  We  won't  talk  any  more  about  it, 
Stubbles." 

Violetta  mopped  up  the  betraying  tears  that  stood  in 
her  eyes.  She  was  angry  with  herself  for  showing  signs 
that  Ella's  words  had  wounded  her  so  much.  She 
wished  Mrs.  Stubbles  had  not  come  upon  her  while 
she  was  struggling  with  her  emotion,  but  the  woman 
meant  her  intrusion  kindly. 

"  She  wanted  to  pump  me  about  you,  Miss,"  went  on 
the  housekeeper,  "  but  I  wasn't  taking  any.  Asked 
me  if  Sir  John  Norman  ever  came  to  see  you.  Not 
knowing  nothing,  I  couldn't  tell  her  nothing.  What 
I  did  say  wasn't  much  short  o'  telling  her  she  was  a 
liar." 

"  That'll  do.  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more," 
rejoined  Violetta,  a  little  chokingly. 

Violetta  had  always  prided  herself  upon  her  perfect 
self  control,  but  Ella's  cruel  insinuations  were  more  than 
she  could  bear,  and  for  once  she  had  broken  down. 
The  ordeal  had  come  upon  her  at  a  time  when  she  was 
least  prepared  for  it.  And  the  irony  of  the  thing  was 
that  the  three  men  who  had  come  into  her  life — Norman, 
Lord  Verschoyle  and  Dan  Westoby — were  nothing 
to  her. 

Mrs.  Stubbles  wisely  left  her  to  herself,  and  after  a 
while  she  sat  down  upon  a  garden  chair  and  allowed 

M 


194          A   QUEEN    OF    THE    PADDOCK 

the  cool,  fresh  spring  air  and  the  bright  sunshine  to 
restore  her  nerves. 

In  a  way  this  came  about,  but  the  recollection  of  that 
passage  of  arms — it  had  hardly  lasted  more  than  a  couple 
of  minutes — still  rankled. 

"  I  could  have  launched  a  bomb  shell  had  I  chosen," 
she  thought.  "  I'm  sure  she  doesn't  know  that  John 
Norman  has  a  wife — and  that  wife  the  woman  who 
called  herself  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smythe.  But  it  would 
have  been  horridly  mean  of  me  to  give  the  poor  man 
away." 

Besides,  it  would  have  done  her  more  harm  than  good. 
It  would  have  made  it  plain  to  Ella  that  John  Norman 
was  thoroughly  abandoned,  and  that  she,  Violetta 
Vaughan,  was  quite  aware  of  his  supposed  loose  princi- 
ples and  had  encouraged  them.  She  quivered  at  the 
thought  of  the  story  which  a  spiteful  woman  could 
concoct  on  such  a  foundation. 

As  to  her  feelings  towards  John  Norman,  she  could 
hardly  analyse  them,  had  she  cared  to  face  the  task. 
She  liked  him  as  a  companion.  His  amiability  and 
geniality  could  not  be  gainsaid.  Violetta  had  a  con- 
siderable spice  of  romance  about  her — perhaps  her 
varied  life  had  had  much  to  do  with  it,  so  much  of  that 
life  had  been  unusual — and  sometimes  she  had  seen 
herself  acting  as  his  guardian  angel — a  role  which  most 
women  of  good  instincts  love  to  play  and  well  it  is  for 
the  world  that  it  should  be  so — but  why  she  should 
have  this  desire  she  could  not  explain.  It  certainly 
did  not  spring  out  of  what  is  called  love.  And  the 
odd  thing  was  that  if  one  judged  by  what  Sir  John 
Norman  had  done  and  left  undone,  it  could  hardly  be 
said  he  was  worth  the  sacrifice  that  a  woman  would 
make  to  ensure  his  happiness. 

But  Violetta  now  saw  Norman  by  the  light  of  de- 
preciation. At  the  same  time  by  contrast  with  the 
self-indulgent  and  depraved  men  she  had  encountered, 
he  was  almost  perfection,  though  she  was  quite  conscious 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK  195 

of  his  shortcomings.  Hence,  because  of  Norman's 
harmlessness  and  because  of  her  own  desire,  out  of  pure 
friendliness,  to  extricate  him  from  his  embarrassments, 
Ella's  insinuations  were  doubly  shameful  and  doubly 
galling. 

She  began  to  think  that  in  associating  herself  with 
Norman  by  renting  the  Owl's  Nest,  she  had  made  a 
mistake.  Their  relations,  purely  those  of  landlord 
and  tenant,  could  be  so  easily  misconstrued.  Yet  he 
had  never  been  near  her — had  never  written  her  a 
line.  But  who  would  believe  it  ? 

"  Well,"  at  last  she  exclaimed,  "  it's  the  old  story,  I 
suppose.  '  Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow, 
thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny.'  Anyway,  I'm  too 
deeply  in  with  horses  and  racing  to  go  back.  And  I 
don't  think  I  want  to  go  back.  I  love  horses.  They're 
honest  and  faithful.  And  they  can't  talk.  After  all, 
what  Ella  chooses  to  say  about  me  isn't  of  much  con- 
sequence. But  she'll  go  for  Sir  John.  Poor  chap, 
I'm  sorry  for  him." 

As  far  as  calumny  went,  George  Godfree  and  Dan 
Westoby  were  much  more  to  be  feared  than  Ella  Norman. 

Violetta  had  half  determined  to  go  to  Westoby  that 
very  day  and  force  him  to  accept  the  £250,  but  after 
what  had  happened  her  nerves  were  too  strained. 

"  I  must  be  at  the  very  top  of  my  form  when  I  inter- 
view that  cold-blooded  fellow,"  was  the  conclusion 
she  came  to,  and  hearing  the  housekeeper's  summons 
for  lunch,  she  went  into  the  house  in  much  her  usual 
unruffled  demeanour. 

Violetta  was  quite  right  in  foreshadowing  a  bad 
quarter  of  an  hour  for  John  Norman.  Ever  since  her 
departure  from  Thames-side,  relations  between  him 
and  his  sister  had  been  somewhat  strained,  but  there 
had  not  been  anything  like  an  open  rupture. 

Norman  had  long  been  chafing  at  his  dependance  upon 
Ella.  It  was  her  money  which  paid  the  rent  of  The 
Willows  and  kept  the  household  going.  When  she 


196 

was  in  a  bad  temper  she  was  not  above  reminding  him 
of  his  obligation  to  her.  His  enforced  helplessness, 
however,  had  had  one  good  effect.  It  made  him  exert 
himself,  and  he  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  Government 
appointment  which  with  economy  (if  he  were  capable 
of  such  a  virtue)  would  enable  him  to  run  his  own 
diggings.  But  with  his  temperamental  inertness  he 
had  put  off  announcing  his  intention. 

Ella's  return  from  her  visit  to  the  Owl's  Nest  and 
the  way  she  flew  at  him  brought  matters  to  a  crisis. 

Happily,  or  unhappily,  he  was  in  the  mood  to  show 
fight.  Alf  Richards  as  a  detective  had  not  turned 
out  a  success.  He  had  proved  to  be  more  like  a  sponge 
than  a  'tec.  Money  had  the  knack  of  slipping  from 
him — or  into  him,  as  it  mostly  disappeared  in  the  shape 
of  whiskey — in  the  most  aggravating  fashion. 

So  far  as  any  details  as  to  Christine's  mode  of  life 
was  concerned,  he  had  plenty  to  say  but  the  details 
were  repellant,  and  John  Norman's  sensitiveness 
received  a  most  disagreeable  shock.  No  doubt,  if 
Richards  was  to  be  believed  he  would  have  no  difficulty 
in  obtaining  a  divorce,  but  it  meant  descending  into 
a  sordid  story  from  which  he  shrank. 

The  worst  point  to  Norman,  however,  was  the  fact 
— again,  if  Richards  spoke  the  truth — that  the 
man  upon  whom  she  bestowed  her  favours  was  George 
Godfree.  They  were  always  together,  reported 
Richards.  Not,  said  Alfred,  always  like  turtle  doves, 
but  more  often  like  fighting  cocks.  But,  considering 
the  tastes  of  both  for  champagne,  whiskies  and  sodas, 
and  liqueurs,  this  mixture  of  moods  was  not  surprising. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  Norman  had 
determined  upon  dispensing  with  Alf's  services,  and 
had  told  him  on  the  very  day  of  Ella's  visit  to  the 
Owl's  Nest  that  he  need  not  do  any  more  detective 
work,  as  he  had  got  all  the  material  he  wanted  and 
more.  He  softened  the  blow  by  presenting  Mr. 
Richards  with  a  treasury  note  over  and  above  his 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          197 

weekly  allowance,  but  the  amateur  detective  went  away 
looking  very  gloomy. 

That  evening  Norman  came  home  to  dinner  in  a  very 
distracted  mood,  and  the  angry  look  upon  Ella's  face 
he  never  noticed.  He  sat  down  to  the  table  without 
a  word,  served  the  soup  and  the  fish  and  still  remained 
silent. 

Meanwhile,  Ella  was  fretting  and  fuming.  She  was 
burning  for  him  to  give  her  an  opening  for  unburdening 
her  soul,  but  she  had  no  chance.  Not  that  she  could 
have  launched  her  grievance  while  the  parlour  maid  was 
hovering  round,  but  she  could  have  delivered  some 
irritating  shafts  apropos  of  nothing  in  particular  and 
so  relieved  her  overcharged  feelings. 

At  last  she  could  bear  the  restraint  no  longer. 

"  What  a  cheerful  companion  you  are,  John,"  she 
broke  out.  "  You  sit  there  solemn  as  an  owl." 

"  I've  nothing  to  say,"  he  rejoined  curtly. 

"  No  ?  Doesn't  the  reference  to  the  owl  stimulate 
you  ?  " 

Ella  had  got  in  one  shot.  She  thought  it  remarkably 
apt. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about." 

"  Really  ?  I  should  have  thought  the  association 
of  ideas  would  have  suggested  something  pleasant." 

"  It  doesn't  suggest  anything  at  all.  You're  talking 
in  riddles.  I  hate  riddles." 

Ella  gave  him  an  acid  smile. 

"  Very  well.  I'll  give  you  the  answer  when  we're 
by  ourselves." 

Shot  number  two.  Norman  had  afforded  her  the 
chance  she  wanted  but  for  the  moment  she  would 
hold  her  hand. 

The  dinner  over,  Norman  lit  a  cigar  and  was  about 
to  retire  to  his  room  when  his  sister  held  up  her  hand. 

"  Stay  a  moment,  John,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Do 
sit  down.  I  can't  say  what's  in  my  mind  while  you're 
wandering  about  like  a  wild  beast  at  the  Zoo." 


198          A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 

John  did  not  look  particularly  well  pleased,  and  he 
threw  himself  into  a  chair  with  an  air  of  resignation. 

"  What's  it  all  about  ?  " 

"  The  answer  to  what  you  were  pleased  to  call  my 
riddle." 

"  Bother  your  riddle.     Do  for  once  talk  sense." 

"  Oh,  you  shall  have  sense  enough,  my  boy,  I  promise 
you.  I  only  said  one  of  two  words  at  dinner — owl — 
and  you  did  not  understand,  or  pretended  you  didn't. 
Had  I  said  '  Owl's  Nest '  it  would,  I  fancy,  have  gone 
home.  Ha,  ha  !  " 

There  was  something  ominous  in  Ella's  assumption 
of  hilarity,  obviously  forced.  John  Norman  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  made  no  reply. 

"  I've  been  to  Owl's  Nest  to-day." 

In  spite  of  himself  Norman  started.  He  knew  now 
what  was  in  his  sister's  mind. 

"  How  nicely  you've  laid  your  heads  together  so  that 
I  shouldn't  know  what  you  and  that  woman  were  up  to." 

A  much  milder  tempered  man  than  John  Norman 
would  have  been  roused  by  Ella's  offensive  words, 
accentuated  as  they  were  by  her  still  more  offensive 
manner. 

"  And  what  have  we  been  up  to  ?  "  he  retorted, 
flushing  angrily. 

"  Don't  try  to  put  me  off,  please,  because  you  won't. 
I'm  not  a  child.  I  suppose  I  know  what  the  scandalous 
business  means.  I'm  not  surprised  that  you  wanted 
to  keep  me  in  the  dark.  Of  course,  you've  a  right  to  do 
as  you  like,  but  if  you  must  mix  yourself  up  in  a  dis- 
graceful intrigue  you  might  have  had  the  decency 
to  keep  your  property  out  of  it.  I'm  told  that  such 
immoral  arrangements  as  you  have  made  with  a  woman, 
who's  little  more  than  an  adventuress,  are  common 
enough  in  the  West  end  of  London.  In  the  circles  of 
vice  one  expects " 

Norman  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  had  fairly  boiled 
over. 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          199 

"  Hold^your  tongue,"  he  shouted.  "  What  you've 
just  said  is  a  tissue  of  false  slanderous  assertions.  I'll 
listen  to  no  more  of  them." 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  truth  is  always  unpleasant.  Do 
you  deny  that  you're  paying  for  the  keep  of  Violetta 
Vaughan — that  it  is  into  her  pocket  that  your  money 
goes — that  in  short,  she  is  your — mistress  ?  " 

Ella  uttered  the  last  word  with  a  great  effort,  as  though 
it  were  something  that  contaminated  her  lips.  Her 
face  wore  such  a  look  of  horror  that  had  her  brother 
not  been  in  such  a  towering  passion,  it  must  have  struck 
him  as  extremely  comical. 

"  I  deny  every  one  of  your  libels." 

"  Of  course  you  do.  But  you  can't  deceive  me. 
The  woman  had  very  little  money  when  she  came  to 
stay  here.  I  saw  evident  signs  of  luxury  where  she 
is  now.  I  noticed  a  horse  in  the  stables — a  sort  of 
poultry  farm  in  miniature — a  couple  of  servants.  She 
can't  keep  up  an  establishment  of  that  kind  on  nothing. 
Where  does  her  money  come  from,  I  ask  you  ?  " 

"  And  you  may  ask.  I  know  no  more  about  Miss 
Vaughan's  affairs  than  you  do.  Indeed,  I  should  say 
I  know  less,  for  you've  visited  her  and  /  haven't." 

"  What  does  that  matter  ?  No  doubt  you  had  her 
reputation  to  consider.  It  is  so  easy — to  meet  in  town." 

Norman  quivered  with  rage.  He  could  not  believe 
that  his  prim  sister  could  say  such  things. 

"  Infamous,"  he  cried.  "  You  talked  just  now  about 
West  end  vice.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  know  as 
much  about  it  as  any  woman  needs  to  know  if  she  has 
use  for  it." 

It  was  Ella  who  was  now  in  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  and 
when  she  was  in  this  mood  her  speech  inclined  to  that 
of  the  melodrama. 

"  If  anybody  had  told  me  .you  would  have  used  such 
vile  language  to  your  own  flesh  and  blood,  I — I  would 
have  struck  the  base  slanderer  to  the  earth,"  she  screamed 
hysterically. 


200          A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 

"  You  brought  it  on  yourself.  I  told  you  to  hold 
your  tongue.  As  it  is,  we've  only  succeeded  in  irritating 
one  another.  I  can  see  but  one  thing  left  for  me  to  do, 
and  that  is  to  leave  you  to  run  this  show  by  yourself. 
We  can't  meet  with  any  degree  of  satisfaction  after 
to-night,"  said  Norman,  cooling  down. 

"  I  quite  agree,  and  I  hope  you'll  go  as  soon  as  possible. 
It's  what  I  would  have  proposed  but  I  didn't  want  you 
to  spread  it  abroad  that  I'd  turned  you  out.  I  may 
say  that  I  contemplate  certain  changes  here,  and  now 
that  you've  plunged  into  what  the  dear  vicar  calls  an 
irregular  life,  your  presence  here  would  be  most  em- 
barrassing both  for  him  and  for  me." 

Ella's  emotional  temperament  permitted  her  to  pass 
from  one  mood  to  another  with  lightning  rapidity.  Her 
fit  of  highflown  indignation  had  disappeared,  and  she 
now  spoke  with  quite  an  air  of  relief. 

John  Norman  stared,  much  puzzled  by  her  announce- 
ment. 

"  The  dear  vicar  !  What  the  deuce  has  the  dear  vicar 
got  to  do  with  it  ?  I  don't  see  where  he  comes  in." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you.     I'm  going  to  marry  him." 

"  What,  have  you  chucked  young  Percival  ?  " 

"  Pray  don't  use  such  vulgar  expression.  I've 
'  chucked  '  as  you're  pleased  to  term  it,  nobody.  I 
was  never  engaged  to  Mr.  Percival." 

"  Weren't  you  ?  I  thought  you  and  he  had  fixed  up 
matters.  But  it's  no  affair  of  mine.  You  can  marry 
whom  you  please  and  do  as  you  like.  I  presume  I'm 
entitled  to  the  same  liberty." 

Now  that  they  had  spoken  their  minds  Norman  in 
his  new  found  energy  determined  to  start  upon  his 
fresh  path  in  life  at  once. 

That  night  brother  and  sister  parted  coldly  polite 
to  each  other,  and  Norman  put  up  at  the  Great  Western 
Hotel  until  he  could  secure  a  suitable  rest  for  the  sole 
of  his  foot. 

He  began  to  realise  the  true  cause  of  Ella's  disposition 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          201 

to  treat  him  as  a  sort  of  pariah.  She  was  eaten  up  by 
the  canker  of  '  respectability,"  and  her  marriage  to  a 
parson  would  set  its  seal  upon  her  destiny.  Norman 
was  inclined  to  laugh  when  he  thought  what  she  would 
have  said  had  she  known  about  Christine  ! 


CHAPTER  XX 

VlOLETTA  SHOWS  FlGHT. 

"  THERE'S  something  going  on  at  Gumley's  that  I 
don't  quite  understand.  You  must  find  out,  George." 

So  declared  Dan  Westoby  in  his  coldest  and  most 
deliberate  manner. 

"  Not  so  easy,  old  man,"  rejoined  the  Honourable 
George.  "  The  place  is  guarded  infernally  close.  Ever 
since  the  Two  Thousand,  Peter's  put  on  a  double  set 
of  watchers,  and  I  tell  you  straight,  Dan,  they're  not 
to  be  got  at." 

"  Exactly,  and  that's  why  I  want  to  find  out  Peter's 
game." 

Westoby  and  George  Godfree  were  seated  at  luncheon 
in  the  stately  dining-room  of  Normanhurst.  It  was 
much  the  same  as  Sir  John  had  left  it  for  Westoby 
had  bought  the  furniture  as  well  as  the  mansion  and 
park. 

The  bookmaker  had  an  idea  that  when  he  became  a 
landed  proprietor  the  gentry  would  receive  him  on  equal 
terms.  He  had  been  bitterly  disappointed.  He  had 
been  snubbed  all  round.  He  could  not  even  obtain 
the  distinction  of  being  a  made  J.P.  Except  the 
satisfaction  of  having  dragged  down  the  man  he  hated, 
he  had  derived  no  pleasure  from  being  the  owner  of 
Normanhurst. 

Perhaps  had  he  flung  his  money  about  he  would  have 


202 

been  more  successful,  but  fits  of  meanness  kept  his 
purse  strings  tightly  tied.  He  knew  the  hangers-on 
of  the  turf  too  well  to  make  friends  of  them  They 
were  useful  to  him  and  that  was  all.  George  Godfree 
was  an  exception,  but  that  was  because  of  Godfree's 
family  connections,  and  because  he  had  been  born  a 
gentleman  and  could  call  himself  the  Honourable  George. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Westoby  was  a  solitary  man,  and 
he  had  begun  to  find  Normanhurst  a  bore  and  a  white 
elephant.  The  upkeep  of  the  place  was  a  financial 
burden  without  much  compensation.  He  had  occasional 
thoughts  of  selling  the  property  but  this  would  have 
been  an  admission  of  defeat,  which  for  the  moment 
he  did  not  feel  inclined  to  face. 

But  since  the  Two  Thousand  he  had  discovered  a 
reason  why  he  should  hold  on.  A  dream  was  hovering 
about  his  brain.  He  was  thinking  of  it  now,  but  ap- 
parently the  mystery  of  Peter  Gumley 's  extra  pre- 
cautions was  the  only  thing  that  occupied  him. 

"  Peter's  game's  a  deep  one,  you  may  bet  your  bottom 
dollar  on  that,  Dan,"  said  Godfree,  frowning.  "  I 
guess  Lord  Verschoyle  keeps  a  tight  hand  over  him. 
It  was  Verschoyle  who  insisted  upon  Gumley  firing 
Parsons  and  all  the  gang.  He's  got  to  know  something." 

"  What's  the  meaning  of  Gumley  taking  on  that  boy 
Tim  Hollis  again  ?  "  said  Westoby  abruptly.  "  He 
was  one  of  the  old  gang,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  was  and  he  wasn't,"  rejoined  Godfree 
with  a  short  laugh.  "  Barney  Moss  got  hold  of  him, 
it's  true,  but  he  was  rather  a  difficult  fish  to  play.  If 
he  hadn't  been  rubbed  the  wrong  way  by  Peter  he 
wouldn't  have  opened  his  mouth  ;  as  it  was,  Barney 
had  precious  little  out  of  him." 

"  Seen  Parsons  lately  ?  " 

"  Yesterday.  He's  always  hanging  about  the  Barley 
Mow  Seems  in  low  water." 

"  So  much  the  better.  No  love  lost  between  him  and 
Gumley,  eh  ! ' 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          203 

"  Not  as  much  as  a  bee's  knee." 

"  And  I  should  think  he  ought  to  know  the  ins  and  outs 
of  Holberry  Down  at  his  fingers'  ends,  You  must  work 
him,  George.  We  must  see  the  next  trial  spin.  If 
Killarney  loses  the  Derby  it'll  about  sew  me  up.  But 
he  can't  lose  with  Tom  Allworth  on  his  back." 

"  What !  do  you  mean  to  say  you've  backed  him  ?  " 
cried  Godfree. 

"  Yes,  why  not  ?  I  suppose  it's  open  to  me  to 
back  a  horse  as  well  as  take  odds  against  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  deny  it.  But  it's  not  like  you.  I've  heard 
you  say  that  if  it  weren't  for  the  jugginses  backing 
horses  the  bookies  couldn't  live." 

"  And  I  still  say  it.  But  once  in  a  way  a  juggins 
pulls  it  off.  Killarney 's  a  dead  cert.  Why  shouldn't 
I  take  advantage  of  it  ?  It's  my  whim,  so  shut  up." 

Godfree  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  veered  round  to 
his  patron's  way  of  thinking  that  Quicksand's  form  at 
Newmarket  was  but  a  fluke. 

"  At  the  same  time,  governor,  if  Tom  Allworth  hadn't 
been  on  Killarney  I  do  believe  Quicksand  would  have 
beaten  him." 

"  And  so  do  I.  That's  where  the  devil  interfered. 
You  hadn't  got  your  ears  and  eyes  open,  George." 

"  How  the  dickens  could  we  tell  Verschoyle  was  going 
to  put  up  Tom  Allworth  at  the  last  moment  ?  Quick- 
sand beat  him  when  the  two  were  tried  together." 

"  Barney  Moss  got  that  bit  of  news  for  us,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  he  was  well  paid  for  it.  He  must  have 
known  more  than  he  told  us,  the  sneak.  He  and  his 
crown  backed  Killarney  for  all  they  were  worth.  We 
were  nearly  sold." 

"  Mind  it  doesn't  happen  again,  George.  We'll  see 
Gumley's  next  trial  with  our  own  eyes.  Parsons  must 
manage  it  for  us.  Enough  of  this.  What  about  the 
girl  we  saw  with  Verschoyle  ?  Found  out  anything 
about  her  ?  " 

Godfrey  eyed  his  patron  closely.      He  was  wondering 


204          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

why  Westoby  took  so  much  interest  in  Violetta.  The 
bookmaker  was  as  a  rule  quite  indifferent  to  women. 
His  ideas  about  them  on  the  few  occasions  when  he 
talked  on  the  subject  were  not  elevating.  He  regarded 
women  as  created  to  squeeze  what  she  could  out  of  man. 
She  would,  he  held,  get  anything  to  benefit  herself 
whether  in  the  way  of  her  pocket  or  of  her  personal 
adornment.  Judging  from  his  experience  of  the 
majority  of  women  whose  acquaintance  he  had  made 
on  the  race  course  possibly  he  was  right. 

His  sentiments  were  perfectly  well  known  to  George 
Godfrey  and  the  latter  could  not  conceive  Dan  regarding 
Violetta  in  any  other  light  than  as  a  woman  to  be 
bought.  Whether  this  was  so  or  not  didn't  matter  a 
rap  to  the  Honourable  George.  His  game  was  to 
make  his  services  useful.  If  Dan  Westoby  paid  him  well, 
and  he  was  able  at  the  same  time  to  indulge  his  spite 
against  Violetta,  he  would  have  a  double  satisfaction. 

"  Have  I  found  out  anything  about  her  ?  My  dear 
chap,  there's  precious  little  I  don't  know,  excepting 
perhaps  what  she  did  during  the  time  she  was  in  France." 

"  Yes,  you  hinted  as  much  before,"  rejoined  Westoby, 
impatiently.  "  Have  you  found  out  where  she's  living  ? 
That's  the  point." 

George  Godfree's  blood-shot  eyes  glinted  maliciously. 

"  Quite  so.  It's  a  bit  of  a  find  and  I  guess  you'll 
open  your  eyes  when  I  tell  you.  It  cost  me  a  fiver  to 
oil  the  tongues  of  the  gossips  at  the  Barley  Mow." 

"  The  Barley  Mow  !  What  the  devil's  the  Barley 
Mow  got  to  do  with  her  ?  " 

"  Simply  this.  She's  living  at  the  Owl's  Nest,  and 
her  place  isn't  two  miles  from  the  pub.  There's  nothing 
the  loafers  of  the  bar  parlour  like  better  than  to  chew 
over  the  bits  of  scandal  about  the  '  Quality.'  " 

"  Well." 

"  What  they  don't  know  they  invent,  and,  by  Jove, 
a  story  in  their  mouths  doesn't  lose  by  telling.  The 
tale  is  that  Sir  John  Norman,  once  my  old  pal,  set  her 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          205 

up  there  and  is  looking  after  her  welfare.    The  Owl's 
Nest  belongs  to  Norman,  you  know." 

"  I  didn't  know — curse  him." 

"  Well,  it  does,  and  a  snugger  cage  for  a  pretty  bird 
it  would  be  difficult  to  find." 

Westoby's  lips  tightened  and  his  nostrils  twitched. 
Godfree  watched  him  narrowly. 

"  From  what  I  know  of  her  past  and  present  I  should 
say  that  there's  a  lot  of  truth  at  the  bottom  of  the  story. 
The  Hebe  of  the  buffet  in  a  club  where  some  of  the 
rowdiest  boys  on  the  turf  were  to  be  seen,  isn't  likely 
to  be  very  particular.  But,  touching  Norman.  By  a 
stroke  of  luck,  Christine,  who's  the  cleverest  of  devils 
when  she  keeps  from  the  cham.  and  chartreuse,  came 
across  both  her  and  Norman  when  she  was  doing  the 
spiritualistic  fake  and  the  Christian  Science  wheeze, 
and  making  a  good  thing  out  of  both.  It  was  at  Thames- 
side,  up  the  river,  and  she  got  taken  up  by  the  vicar, 
till  he  was  told  something  about  her  that  made  him 
drop  poor  Christine  like  a  hot  potatoe.  It's  as  good 
as  a  play  to  hear  her  take  off  his  reverence — " 

"  That'll  do.  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  Christine. 
I  know  all  her  doings." 

"  Do  you  ?  I  doubt  it,"  returned  Godfree,  with  a 
hoarse  laugh.  "  She  wants  a  bit  of  knowing.  Anyhow, 
she  figures  in  the  story.  She  was  invited  to  a  seance 
at  a  riverside  villa  where  Norman  and  his  sister  were 
living,  and  while  she  was  there  Norman  and  Violetta 
Vaughan  came  back  from  a  motor  joy  ride.  They'd 
been  out  all  day  it  appeared.  Norman's  sister,  who  is 
a  bit  of  a  spitfire,  was  in  a  rare  wax.  Christine  learned 
that  the  next  day  she  packed  off  Violetta  bag  and 
baggage.  Of  course,  Norman  was  on  the  job,  and 
that  was  how  she  comes  to  be  living  in  that  secluded 
shanty  of  his,  the  Owl's  Nest." 

Westoby's  face  became  harder  and  harder  as  he 
listened  to  this  recital  of  facts  ornamented  by  fictional 
conclusions. 


206          A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  How  came  she  to  be  gadding  about  at  Newmarket 
with  Verschoyle  ?  "  he  burst  out. 

"  Ask  me  another,  my  dear  chap.  You're  not  a  baby 
in  the  ways  of  women.  Draw  your  own  inferences,  and 
while  you're  doing  that  draw  me  a  cheque.  I  guess 
I've  made  the  way  easy  for  you.  It's  half  the  battle 
when  you  know  the  sort  of  woman  you're  after.  Five 
tens  wouldn't  hurt  you.  I  wasn't  bound  to  tell  you 
anything,  you  know.  Dirty  work  ought  to  be  well  paid." 

Westoby  pulled  out  his  cheque  book  and  wrote  a 
cheque  for  the  desired  amount. 

"  There  you  are,  Judas,"  he  hissed. 

Godfree  laughed.     He  was  used  to  Westoby 's  ways. 

"  Get  on  now  to  Parsons  and  don't  mess  the  thing 
up,"  snarled  Westoby. 

The  tone  and  manner  were  those  of  a  master  to  a 
servant,  and  the  Honourable  George's  face  momentarily 
flushed.  But  he  dared  not  resent  the  book-maker's 
contempt  and  tyranny. 

Three  days  went  over.  Violetta,  by  sheer  force  of 
will,  had  recovered  her  equanimity.  Had  she  chosen 
to  dwell  upon  her  disappointments  she  would  have  been 
thoroughly  miserable.  She  had  half  hoped  that  Lord 
Verschoyle  would  have  been  tempted  to  call,  but  he 
came  not. 

"  Why  should  he  ?  You're  a  fool  to  think  he  would 
after  seeing  that  choice  sample  of  my  acquaintances. 
He  must  be  feeling  jolly  glad  I  didn't  accept  his  promised 
invitation  to  his  mother's  dinner  party.  I  suppose  I 
shall  be  honoured  with  a  distant  bow  if  I  should  chance 
to  meet  him  with  any  of  his  relations,  and  with  a  sort 
of  patronising  familiarity  if  he  should  be  alone.  That's 
how  men  treat  women  who've  gone  down  in  their  esti- 
mation. I've  seen  that  kind  of  thing  over  and  over 
again." 

Immediately  after  pronouncing  this  judgment  she 
was  inclined  to  make  a  reservation  in  favour  of  his 
lordship.  In  whatever  he  did  he  would  be  a  gentleman. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          207 

As  for  Norman,  his  silence  had  first  surprised  and 
then  slightly  angered  her.  Having  taken  her  fully 
into  confidence,  he  had  dropped  her.  Why  ?  She 
could  find  no  reason,  but  after  Ella's  base  insinuations 
she  was  glad  he  had  never  written  nor  sought  to  see 
her.  No  one  who  knew  the  facts  could  cast  a  stone 
either  at  her  or  him. 

But,  as  she  thought,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
what  do  facts  matter  where  scandalous  tongues  are 
at  work  ? 

Notwithstanding  that  Norman  had  to  a  certain  extent 
dropped  out  of  her  dreams  of  the  future,  the  sudden 
appearance  of  Dan  Westoby  and  his  identity  with 
the  man  of  her  "  mascotte  "  days  impressed  her  strangely, 
and  brought  to  life  the  romanticism  of  her  nature. 
It  had  once  pleased  her  to  let  her  fancy  rove  in  the 
regions  of  the  ideal  when  she  saw  herself  the  central 
figure  of  a  story  which  was  to  have  a  happy  ending  in 
restoring  to  Norman  his  ancestral  house.  She  did  not 
know  exactly  how  this  was  to  be  done,  and  Norman 
himself  had  rather  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  her 
fanciful  weavings  by  his  confession.  Of  late  she  had 
ceased  to  speculate  about  him  and  herself — save  on 
one  point. 

That  point  was  closely  allied  to  her  romanticism. 
She  had  never  cast  aside  the  impression  that  she  brought 
good  luck  to  other  people.  Though  she  had  ceased 
to  be  a  "  mascotte,"  she  still  believed  in  her  powers. 
As  she  had  at  Monte  Carlo  told  the  man  who  had  proved 
to  be  Dan  Westoby,  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea  why 
she  should  possess  this  occult  influence.  All  she  could 
say  was  that  such  was  the  fact. 

And  with  this  conviction  firmly  fixed  in  her  mind,  she 
had  governed  all  her  speculative  plunges  by  the  idea 
that  she  was  acting  for  Norman  and  not  for  herself. 
It  might  be  said  to  be  a  species  of  self  delusion,  but 
whether  or  not  she  had  hitherto  not  had  a  failure. 
Of  course,  she  herself  would  benefit  by  her  successes,  but 


208          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

this  was  a  minor  consideration.  She  had  as  a  Monte 
Carlo  "  mascotte  "  steadily  refused  anything  but  a  fair 
remuneration  and  she  would  continue  to  do  so.  It 
was  no  doubt  a  "  fad,"  but  "  fads  "  have  a  strange 
individualistic  influence  incapable  of  explanation. 

The  startling  entry  of  Westoby  into  her  life  had 
made  a  considerable  difference  in  her  views.  She  now 
had  a  strange  personal  interest  in  wresting  Normanhurst 
from  the  man  who  had  deposed  its  rightful  owner. 
She  had  no  cause  for  hating  Westoby,  it  was  purely  the 
antagonism  she  felt  against  him.  But  with  Violetta  this 
was  quite  enough. 

So  it  came  about  that  the  sympathy  with  Norman 
and  her  desire  to  help  him  receded  into  the  background, 
and  a  yearning  to  pit  herself  against  Westoby  occupied 
the  first  place. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  Violetta  felt  that  for  the  moment 
she  had  not  nerve  enough  to  take  the  bold  step  of 
calling  on  Westoby.  She  had  worked  herself  up  into 
hating  the  man,  but  neither  his  questionable  reputation 
nor  his  intimacy  with  her  avowed  enemy  George  Godf ree 
had  anything  to  do  with  that  hatred.  The  cause  was 
something  which  worked  upon  her  indignation  and 
galled  her  to  the  quick.  She  knew  that  her  character 
and  much  of  her  past  were  in  his  hands.  And  she 
felt  helpless. 

Violetta  brooded  over  the  position  until  it  began  to 
dash  her  spirits,  and  she  felt  the  want  of  some  mental 
tonic.  It  came  in  the  shape  of  a  note  from  Peter 
Gumley,  which  arrived  by  post. 

"  Dear  Miss  Vaughan,"  he  wrote.  "  I  should  much 
like  you  to  see  the  horses  run.  I'm  going  to  have  a 
trial — at  night.  I've  reason  to  believe  that  spies  are 
about,  so  I  send  this  by  post  instead  of  messenger, 
who  might  be  watched.  To-morrow  night  the  moon 
will  be  at  the  full,  and  if  the  present  weather  continues 
it  ought  to  be  almost  as  light  as  day.  Come  over 
about  nine.  I  shouldn't  ride  if  I  were  you,  nor  travel 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          209 

direct.  Take  a  roundabout  route.  We  can't  be  too 
careful.  All  going  well.  Yours  respectfully,  Peter 
Gumley." 

Violetta  felt  a  strange  sense  of  elation.  Here  was 
something  to  fight  against.  The  prospect  of  a  battle 
of  wits  always  put  her  in  a  good  humour.  She  carried 
out  Gumley 's  instructions  to  the  letter. 

A  few  fleecy  clouds  flecked  the  sky  when  Violetta 
reached  the  trainer's  house.  Gumley  was  awaiting 
her.  There  was  a  shade  of  anxiety  in  his  face. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  weren't  dogged  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Quite  sure — that  is  to  say,  I  saw  no  one  at  all 
suspicious.  I  set  out  from  my  place  as  if  I  weren't 
coming  here.  I  came  round  by  Normanhurst." 

"  That  was  rather  risky,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  No.  I  thought  it  was  the  best  thing.  If  you're  in 
any  fear  of  Westoby's  people  they'd  hardly  think  I 
should  go  in  his  direction." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right.  What  troubles  me  is  that 
blackguard  Parsons.  He's  been  nosing  about  here  these 
last  two  or  three  days.  Anyway,  all  is  in  readiness, 
so  come  along." 

The  two  went  into  the  paddock.  The  horses  were 
out  for  a  gentle  walk  to  stretch  their  legs  previous  to 
the  trial.  There  they  were,  the  three  beauties, — 
Killarney,  Quicksand,  and  Belphegor.  Violetta's  heart 
bounded  when  she  saw  how  the  action  and  bearing  of 
her  favourite  had  improved. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gumley,  how  splendid  he  looks ! "  she 
cried  enthusiastically. 

"  Aye,  and  I'll  go  bail  his  running  will  be  just  as 
good." 

"  Who's  up  ?  " 

"  Tim,  of  course.  I  wouldn't  trust  any  other  boy 
on  his  back." 

"  That's  right.  Who'll  ride  Killarney — I  mean  for 
the  Derby  ?  Tom  All  worth,  I  suppose." 


210          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  Yes,  Tom's  booked  for  the  Derby,  but  for  the 
moment  it's  a  dead  secret." 

"  Where  does  to-night's  run  end  ?  " 

"  At  yonder  post.     Wait  here  and  see  'em  come  in." 

Violetta  purposely  avoided  making  herself  known 
either  to  Tim  or  to  Belphegor.  She  wanted  the  trial 
to  be  carried  out  fairly  and  squarely  on  its  merits. 

The  horses  were  walked  to  the  starting  place,  and 
Gumley's  head  groom  set  them  going.  Violetta  and 
the  old  trainer  watched  and  waited. 

It  was  an  exciting  struggle,  and  to  Violetta  all  the 
more  so  because  of  the  solitude  and  silence.  There 
was  no  bustle,  no  roar  of  a  tumultous  crowd,  no  buzz 
of  tongues  to  relieve  the  strain  on  the  nerves. 

Soon  the  quick  sullen  thud  of  hoofs  became  distinctly 
audible.  Violetta,  looking  direct  at  the  advancing 
horses,  could  not  determine  which  was  ahead.  They 
seemed  to  be  in  a  cluster.  Gumley's  more  experienced 
eyes,  however,  told  him  that  Killarney  was  a  little  in 
front,  and  he  said  so. 

"  But  that  means  nothing,"  he  added.  "  They're 
only  through  the  first  half  of  the  spin.  The  last  bit 
will  tell.  It's  a  little  uphill." 

"  Oh,  if  only  Belphegor  puts  out  all  his  strength  !  " 
cried  Violetta,  clasping  her  hands.  "  He's  got  it  in 
him,  I'm  sure." 

"  I'll  go  bail  Tim'll  see  to  that.  I  never  see  a  boy  so 
wrapped  up  in  a  horse.  They're  pals,  and  that's  a 
fact." 

On  they  came.  At  three  hundred  yards  or  so  from 
the  post  they  were  level,  and  at  a  hundred  yards  Bel- 
phegor began  to  draw  away  from  his  companions.  He 
gradually  drew  ahead  and  won  by  a  length.  It  was  a 
dead  heat  between  Killarney  and  Quicksand. 

Violetta  rushed  to  Belphegor,  stroked  his  nose  and 
caressed  his  neck.  The  horse  knew  her.  Then  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  Tim,  whose  eyes  glistened. 

"  I  knowed  he'd  do  it,  miss,  when  he'd  got  fair  play," 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK          211 

gasped  Tim,  who  was  breathless  with  exertion  and 
excitement. 

"  Yes,  and  he  must  do  it  again  at  the  Derby,"  said 
she. 

"  You  bet  he  will  if  I'm  on  him." 

Violetta  turned  to  Gumley. 

"  What  will  Lord  Verschoyle  say  to  this,  Peter?  " 

"  It's  a  bit  awkward.  He's  pretty  deep  in  with 
Killarney,  though  I  warned  him  the  Derby  wouldn't 
be  the  sure  thing  the  Two  Thou,  was." 

"  Did  you  say  anything  about  Belphegor  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  wasn't  confident  about  him  or  about  Tim 
either.  He's  come  along  wonderful  since  then." 

Violetta  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  she 
looked  up  with  a  shade  of  vexation  in  her  voice. 

"  I  wish  you'd  invited  Lord  Verschoyle  to-night. 
He  ought  to  have  seen  the  trial  considering  he's  so 
interested  in  it.  It  would  have  been  playing  the  game, 
wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  would,"  rejoined  Gumley  with  an 
apologetic  cough.  "  But  I  didn't  know  how  you'd 
take  it." 

"  How  I'd  take  it  ?     Why  on  earth  should  I  object  ?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  Miss,  the  thing  had  to  be  kept  so 
close  on  account  of  Dan  Westoby." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  Lord  Verschoyle's  a  gentleman. 
He's  to  be  trusted." 

"  Of  course — of  course.  Anyhow,  the  thing's  done 
and  can't  be  undone." 

"  Yes  it  can.  You  must  let  Lord  Verschoyle  know 
as  soon  as  possible.  Remember,  I  insist  upon  it." 

Gumley  was  a  little  puzzled  over  Violetta's  manifesta- 
tion of  feeling.  And;  indeed,  Violetta  herself  was 
puzzled.  It  seemed  to  her,  however,  that  as  things  had 
turned  out,  it  might  be  said  that  she  had  been  con- 
spiring with  Peter  Gumley  against  his  lordship.  But 
had  Belphegor  failed,  what  then  ?  It  was  a  point  she 
could  not  decide  off-hand. 


212          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  How  does  the  betting  on  Belphegor  stand  ?  "  said 
she. 

"  Ten  to  one.  The  bookmakers  want  less  odds. 
Before  the  Two  Thou,  you  could  have  got  twenty  to  one." 

"  I  did,"  rejoined  Violetta  quietly. 

The  trainer  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"  Up  to  how  much  ?  " 

"  A  £100." 

"  Who's  the  man  who  took  you  ?  " 

"  Dan  Westoby.  I  chose  him  purposely.  The  bet's 
not  in  my  name.  I  booked  it  through  my  old  friend, 
William  Burrup." 

"  H'm.  If  Dan  Westoby  knew  of  to-night's  result 
he'd  say  his  £2,000  was  as  good  as  gone." 

"  I  suppose  he'd  get  it  back  and  more  by  Killarney 
losing.  Killarney 's  hot  favourite  just  now." 

"  That's  so.  But  he  wouldn't  be  if  this  trial  gets 
talked  about.  I've  done  my  level  best  to  keep  every- 
thing as  close  as  wax,  but  stable  secrets  have  a  nasty 
way  of  oozing  out." 

"  I  might  get  on  the  first  thing  to-morrow  at  ten 
to  one,"  said  Violetta,  reflecting. 

"  You  might." 

"  I  happen  to  know  Burrup's  in  town.  I  shall  go 
to  London  to-night  and  see  him.  Shall  I  put  a  bit 
on  for  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  that  would  never  do.  It  would  upset  the 
show  if  it  were  known  that  I  was  booking  bets." 

"  I  should  take  care  it  wasn't  known  but  please 
yourself.  Good-night,  Mr.  Gumley.  If  I  hurry  I  shall 
just  catch  the  next  train." 

She  sped  away,  and  the  old  trainer's  looks  followed 
her.  Scratching  his  chin,  the  while  he  muttered  : 

"  Mercy  on  me,  when  a  woman  takes  on  a  hobby, 
whether  its  horses  or  anything  else,  she  goes  the  whole 
hog.  What  did  she  pick  out  Westoby  for  ?  " 

Peter  couldn't  answer  the  question  and  he  didn't  try. 
He  could  only  shake  his  head, 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          213 

"  The  gell  may  be  right,  but "  well,  there  was  a 

volume  in  that  "  but." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
QUITS  ! 

As  Peter  feared,  somebody  in  his  establishment  said 
"  something."  Belphegor's  price  suddenly  went  from 
ten  to  one  to  five  to  one.  The  favourite  stood  at  three 
to  one.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  after  the 
trial  spin,  Peter  had  a  visit  from  Dan  Westoby.  The 
trainer  received  the  bookmaker  civilly  but  coldly. 

"  I've  called  to  see  you,  Gumley,  about  that  tricky 
horse  of  yours,  Belphegor,"  said  Westoby,  going  straight 
to  the  point,  as  was  his  wont.  "  Some  six  months 
ago  you  offered  him  to  me  at  my  own  price." 

"  Aye,  and  you  refused  a  deal." 

"  Well,  I've  altered  my  mind.     Name  your  figure." 

"  Can't  be  done,  Mr.  Westoby.  The  matter's  out 
of  my  hands." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  I've  sold  the  horse." 

"  You  might  have  given  me  the  chance,  anyway," 
said  Westoby,  his  brows  contracting. 

"  You  had  the  chance,  Sir,  and  you  let  it  slip." 

Westoby  inwardly  was  raging,  but  his  habitual  self- 
command  concealed  any  outward  expression  beyond  a 
tightening  of  the  thin  lips. 

"  Who's  bought  the  brute  ?  "  said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"  Man  named  Humphries  took  a  fancy  to  him,  and 
naming  me  a  fair  price,  I  closed  with  his  offer." 

"  Humph.  Who's  this  Humphries  ?  Where's  he  to 
be  found  ?  " 

"  That's  my  business,  Mr.  Westoby." 


214          A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 

"  Very  well.     I'll  make  it  mine,  too." 

"  You  can  do  as  you  like  about  it." 

Dan  Westoby  said  no  more.  The  parting  between 
him  and  Peter  verged  upon  the  hostile. 

The  bookmaker  had  been  ill-served  by  George  Godfree. 
Of  course  there  was  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of  the 
matter — Violetta,  though  in  a  roundabout  way.  The 
£50  which  Godfree  had  extracted  from  Westoby  for 
telling  him  where  Violetta  might  be  found  was  the 
Honourable  George's  undoing. 

The  trial  spin  had  come  off  on  the  very  night  George 
received  his  instructions  and  the  cheque.  Godfree 
had  got  on  the  track  of  Parsons,  who  in  some  mysterious 
way  had  had  the  tip  concerning  Belphegor's  wonderful 
running.  Parsons  parted  with  the  secret  for  a  fiver, 
and  told  Godfree  something  besides  which  had  he  but 
known  was  worth  as  much  more.  Godfree  could  not 
see  that  the  information  would  lose  anything  by  his 
keeping  it  to  himself  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  burning 
for  a  night's  debauch  went  off  to  London  for  that  purpose. 

Full  of  importance,  George,  saturated  with  champagne 
and  brandy,  let  out  to  his  pals  a  good  deal  of  what  he 
knew,  and  in  a  wonderfully  short  time  the  result  was 
seen  in  the  rapid  shortening  of  the  odds,  greatly  to 
Westoby's  bewilderment.  Godfree 's  night  of  dissipation 
required  a  day  for  recovery,  and  forty-eight  hours 
went  over  before  he  saw  Westoby  and  told  him  what 
had  happened.  But  he  said  not  a  word  about  the 
other  item  of  gossip  which  Parsons  had  mentioned. 
This  item  was  that  Belphegor  had  been  in  Violetta's 
possession  for  a  short  time.  Parsons  could  not  explain 
why,  but  he  imagined  that  Violetta,  having  succeeded 
in  soothing  the  horse's  savage  temper,  had  had  him 
in  her  keeping  to  complete  the  cure.  The  important 
fact  that  he  did  not  know,  was  that  she  had  bought  the 
horse. 

Westoby  was  maddened  by  the  news.  Violetta  had 
completely  mystified  him.  He  had  never  forgotten 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          215 

her  success  as  a  "  mascotte."  He  had  found  out  that 
she  had  backed  Killarney  for  the  Two  Thou.,  and  he  had 
no  doubt  she  would  follow  her  luck  and  back  him  also 
for  the  Derby.  Some  curious  superstitious  feeling 
had  led  him  to  alter  his  tactics,  and  he  had  involved 
himself  heavily  in  his  support  of  the  favourite.  Violetta 
had  once  brought  off  a  coup  in  his  favour.  Why 
shouldn't  she  do  it  again  ? 

The  unexpected  issue  of  the  trial  spin  had  altered 
everything.  If  Belphegor  won  the  Derby  he  was  a 
broken  man.  In  addition  to  backing  Killarney,  he 
had  accepted  the  odds  against  Belphegor,  and  he  stood 
to  lose  both  ways  if  Belphegor  won.  The  Derby  Day 
was  so  close  that  there  was  little  chance  of  his  hedging 
successfully.  The  racing  public  had  gone  mad  over 
Killarney  and  Belphegor,  and  would  hardly  look  at 
any  of  the  other  entries. 

Westoby  returned  to  Normanhurst  much  perturbed, 
even  agitated.  It  was  a  new  sensation  for  a  man  who 
had  always  believed  in  his  iron  nerves.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  his  brain  refused  to  grapple  with  the 
complicated  process  of  "  making  a  book."  Moreover, 
he  was  beset  by  the  constantly  recurring  image  of 
Violetta  Vaughan.  She  intruded  into  his  thoughts. 
He  took  up  his  betting  book,  and  threw  it  down  im- 
patiently. He  glanced  through  the  latest  racing  odds 
in  that  morning's  sporting  paper,  the  figures  danced 
before  his  eyes. 

"  Curse  the  jade,"  he  muttered.  "  Who  the  devil 
is  she  acting  for  ?  Norman  or  Verschoyle  ?  " 

Westoby  had  been  the  clever  show  mathematical 
boy  of  his  grammar  school.  He  was  the  "  lightning 
calculator,"  who  astonished  the  examiners.  He  had 
on  leaving  school  entered  a  stockbroker's  office  and 
was  found  a  treasure  by  his  employer.  He  could  reel 
off  the  fluctuating  quotations  of  the  day  with  an  accuracy 
and  a  nicety  of  fractional  details  truly  marvellous.  His 
cold  temperament  remained  undisturbed  by  women. 


216  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

But  there  must  have  been  something  in  his  frigidity 
and  air  of  composed  masterfulness  which  had  their 
influence  on  the  emotional  Alice  Forbes,  the  stock- 
broker's daughter.  He  cared  nothing  for  her,  but  he 
saw  his  way  to  his  own  advancement  if  the  father 
consented  to  receive  him  as  a  son-in-law. 

Westoby  had  no  notion  of  a  secret  marriage,  and 
he  coolly  broached  the  subject  to  the  stockbroker.  The 
latter  was  highly  indignant,  and  informed  his  pre- 
sumptuous clerk  that  he  intended  his  daughter  to  marry 
Sir  John  Norman,  one  of  his  best  clients — indeed, 
the  matter  was  practically  settled.  He  wound  up  by 
suggesting  the  advisability  of  Westoby  transferring 
his  services  elsewhere  to  prevent  embarrassment. 

Westoby,  of  course,  knew  Norman  and  had  always 
disliked  him  for  no  reasons  other  than  envy  and  an- 
tagonism. Norman's  easy  well-bred  manner  was  such 
a  contrast  to  his  own.  Added  to  this,  was  the  convic- 
tion that  he  could  never  acquire  the  air  of  a  gentle- 
man. 

He  went  out  of  Forbes'  office  hating  Norman  with 
all  the  venom  of  a  malignant  nature.  He  made  a 
lucky  "  plunge,"  became  a  member  of  the  Stock  Ex- 
change— and  then  his  luck  turned.  He  was  "  ham- 
mered," turned  outside  broker,  engaged  in  some  shady 
transaction,  vanished  for  a  year  or  two  and  reappeared 
as  a  successful  "  bookie."  Eventually,  as  we  know, 
his  chance  came  to  revenge  himself  upon  Sir  John 
Norman. 

Abstemious  by  temperament  and  system,  he  had 
not  the  relief  in  stimulants  which  on  occasions  most  men 
seek.  Teetotalism  may  tend  to  affect  the  brain  as 
injuriously  as  excess.  Westoby  thought  that  abstention 
from  alcohol  kept  his  mind  clear.  He  forgot  that  the 
mind  depends  upon  the  nerves.  Just  now  his  nervous 
system  was  in  a  tumult,  and  he  paced  the  room  a  prey 
to  intense  vexation  and  chagrin. 

A  rap  came  at  the  door.    A  servant  entered.    A  lady 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          217 

had  called,  said  the  maid.  She  wanted  to  see  Mr. 
Westoby  on  business. 

"Who  is  she  ?     What's  her  name  ?  "  he  rapped  out. 

"  Wouldn't  tell  me,  sir.     I  asked  her." 

Westoby  was  silent  for  a  moment.  He  decided  that 
whoever  the  visitor  might  be  he  would  see  her.  She 
would  distract  his  thoughts  and  that  was  what  at 
that  moment  he  wanted  most. 

The  servant  ushered  in  the  visitor — Violetta. 

Westoby  stared  at  her  blankly.  She  looked  in- 
finitely more  attractive  in  her  well-fitting  sober  toned 
dress  than  she  did  in  the  butterfly  costume  suitable 
to  Monte  Carlo. 

"  You,"  he  faltered.     "  Pray  sit  down." 

Scarcely  knowing  what  he  said  or  did,  he  moved  a 
chair  towards  her.  She  took  no  notice. 

"  The  business  that  has  brought  me  here,  Mr.  Westoby, 
won't  take  two  minutes.  I  want  to  return  the  £250 
I  received  from  you  at  Monte  Carlo.  Will  you  count 
the  notes  and  see  that  they  are  correct  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't,"  he  returned,  brusquely.  "  The 
money's  yours.  It  was  fairly  earned.  I'll  not  take  it." 

"  That's  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me.  I  shall 
leave  it  all  the  same.  I  wish  you  good  morning." 

She  laid  the  notes  on  the  table,  and  turned  to  quit 
the  room. 

"  Stop,"  he  shouted.  "  You're  not  going  like  that. 
You've  no  right.  I've  done  you  no  injury.  I've  never 
offended  you  so  far  as  I  can  tell.  If  I  have,  I  apologise. 
Just  think.  We  parted  as  strangers,  but  now  that  I 
know  who  you  are  and  you  know  me,  the  thing's  different. 
I  want  an  explanation." 

"  Of  what  ?  " 

"  Why  you  bring  me  these  notes  with  an  air  as  though 
they  were  contaminated." 

"  It's  my  whim.  I've  nothing  more  to  say/'  she 
returned  steadily. 

"  But  /  have,  and  you  must  listen.     It's  only  fair." 


2i8          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

A  qualm  of  conscience  seized  Violetta.  There  was 
reason  in  what  he  said.  He  had  done  her  no  wrong, 
but  she  hated  to  be  under  an  obligation  to  him. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  offer  of  partnership  I  made 
you  at  Monte  Carlo  ?  " 

"  Yes.     My  answer  was  no." 

"  Exactly,  but  at  that  time  you  did  not  know  me. 
It  did  not  occur  to  you  that  this  place — Normanhurst 
— was  mine." 

"  What  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  offer  it  to  you  now.  I  should  fancy  it  was  pref- 
erable to  the  Owl's  Nest.  Aren't  you  tired  of  that 
weak-kneed  Norman  ?  " 

He  thought  to  surprise  her.  She  heard  him  quite 
composedly. 

"  May  I  ask  you  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Bah  !  You  know  quite  well.  From  what  I  hear, 
you've  thrown  him  over  for  Lord  Verschoyle.  Sort  of 
thing  one  would  expect.  Here,  as  my  wife,  you'd 
be  free  from  scandal." 

"  I'm  a  topic  of  scandal,  am  I  ?  " 

He  laughed  derisively. 

"  How  can  you  escape  being  so — with  your  record  ?  " 

"  And  who  knows  what  you're  pleased  to  call  my 
record  beyond  you  and  George  Godfree  ?  If  there's 
any  scandal  about  me  it's  been  spread  by  one  or  the 
other,  possibly  by  both.  I'm  glad  to  learn  this.  If 
ever  anything  concerning  myself  comes  to  my  ears  I 
need  not  trouble  to  ask  who  are  the  scandal  mongers." 

His  white  face  broke  into  pale  yellow  patches.  His 
cold  eyes  suddenly  blazed. 

"  I've  not  said  a  word  about  you,  but  I  could.  I 
was  not  deaf  to  the  gossip  at  Monte  Carlo.  Personally, 
I  don't  care  a  hang  what  character  you  bear.  What 
you're  doing  now — mascotte  to  the  backers  of  horses 
as  you  were  a  mascotte  to  gamblers — doesn't  trouble 
me  excepting  that  I  want  you  for  my  mascotte.  You 
were  once,  you  know,  and  why  not  again  ?  I'll  swear 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          219 

I  paid  you  on  a  much  more  liberal  scale  than  either 
Norman  or  Verschoyle  may  be  doing  now.  I  won't 
touch  this  money.  Put  it  in  your  pocket.  It'll  buy 
you  a  few  diamonds." 

The  insinuation  was  gross — it  was  unpardonable. 
For  the  first  time  Violetta  showed  emotion.  Her  lips 
quivered  slightly  and  then  became  firm.  Grasping 
the  notes  he  had  pushed  towards  her,  she  tore  them 
across  and  across,  flung  the  fragments  contemptuously 
in  his  face,  and  without  a  word  walked  out  of  the  room. 
It  was  as  though  she  had  slashed  him  with  a  whip. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
LORD  VERSCHOYLE  MAKES  THE  PLUNGE 

VIOLETTA'S  outburst  of  emotion  did  not  last  long.  The 
fresh  air  and  the  bright  sun  restored  her  nerves  to 
their  usual  tone.  Before  she  passed  through  the  lodge 
gate  of  Normanhurst,  she  felt  a  sense  of  elation,  of 
triumph  creep  over  her. 

The  cause  was  not  far  to  seek.  She  had  now  a  definite 
reason  for  hating  Westoby.  Her  instincts  had  not 
deceived  her.  The  man  was  a  mercenary  cad.  She 
could  not  feel  sufficiently  glad  that  she  had  got  even 
with  him — that  she  was  not  under  the  slightest  obliga- 
tion. As  for  his  base  insinuations,  she  brushed  them 
aside  as  she  would  some  noisome  insect. 

She  returned  home  by  train.  There  was  no  direct 
railway  route  and  the  journey  entailed  some  two  miles 
on  foot.  But  excellent  walker  as  she  was,  this  was  of 
no  consequence. 

Still,  what  with  this  and  the  strain  on  her  nerves 
which  she  had  gone  through,  she  found  the  ascent  to 
the  Owl's  Nest  somewhat  fatiguing,  and  at  the  bend 


220          A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK 

half  way  up  she  paused  to  rest  and  take  breath.  While 
she  was  standing,  her  hand  to  her  side,  she  heard  the 
scrunching  of  the  loose  gravel  path  ahead  of  her  and 
suddenly  someone  came  round  the  corner  with  a  long 
swinging  stride.  It  was  Lord  Verschoyle. 

She  saw  at  once  that  his  expression  was  unusually 
sombre.  It  instantly  changed,  however,  when  his 
glance  rested  upon  her  and  he  quickened  his  pace. 

"  This  is  real  luck,"  he  exclaimed  gaily.  "  They 
told  me  at  your  place  that  you  were  out  and  that  it  was 
uncertain  when  you'd  be  back.  I  was  plunged  in 
desolation.  But  now " 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  retained  hers,  while  his 
keen  grey  eyes  went  rapidly  over  her  face. 

"  You  look  horribly  fagged,"  said  he  bluntly.  "  What 
have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  This  rough  hilly  road  is  always  very  trying,  es- 
pecially when  one  is  tired." 

Without  a  word  he  drew  her  hand  inside  his  arm  and 
they  walked  slowly  up  the  ascent.  In  truth  she  was 
glad  of  his  support,  as  much  because  of  his  strong 
cheery  presence  as  because  of  his  physical  help. 

Presently  he  broke  the  silence. 

"  You  see,  I've  kept  my  word.  I've  called  upon  you. 
You  didn't  think  I  would." 

"  I've  never  thought  about  it." 

"  No  ?     How  disappointing— to  me,  I  mean." 

And  really  a  shadow  seemed  to  flit  across  his  face. 

"  I'm  sorry.  But  now  that  you're  here,  you're  very 
welcome." 

There  was  sincerity  in  her  tone.  The  contrast  be- 
tween Lord  Verschoyle's  frank,  hearty  manner,  and 
the  dry,  saturnine  air  of  Dan  Westoby  was  very  re- 
freshing. 

"  I  believe  you  mean  that,"  he  rejoined,  with 
emphasis. 

They  reached  the  gate  and  he  held  it  open  while  she 
passed  in. 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          221 

"  You  have  a  charming  little  place  here,"  said  he,  "  an 
ideal  retreat.  I  took  the  liberty  of  walking  round  the 
garden.  It's  tended,  I  can  see,  by  someone  who  loves 
flowers." 

"  I  believe  everyone  in  my  small  household  does." 

"  Yes,  but  I  can  trace  the  master  mind.  Yours,  I'll 
swear." 

"  Oh,  I  daresay  I've  something  to  do  with  it.  But 
you  must  see  the  inside  of  the  house." 

The  sound  of  the  clock  striking  the  hour  came  through 
the  open  French  windows. 

"  Four  o'clock.  Is  it  too  early  to  offer  you  a  cup  of 
tea  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  accept  your  hospitality  at 
any  hour  of  the  day,  but  more  especially  now,  as  I  can 
see  that  tea  is  the  one  thing  you  want." 

"  You're  really  an  '  understanding '  man,"  she  said, 
smilingly.  "  You'll  excuse  me  while  I  look  up  my  right 
hand  woman.  Do  please  smoke  meanwhile.  I  shan't 
be  long." 

They  had  entered  the  pleasant  low-ceilinged  room 
through  the  French  windows.  She  hastened  away, 
leaving  him  to  amuse  himself  as  best  he  might. 

Lord  Verschoyle  was  evidently  not  in  the  mood  to  be 
amused.  He  was  puzzled  and  not  a  little  worried.  A 
certain  restlessness  had  come  over  him.  He  walked 
about  the  room  twisting  his  moustache  and  muttering 
words  chiefly  of  an  ejaculatory  character. 

"  Shall  I  ?  I  wonder — damned  if  I  can  make  up  my 
mind,"  was  one  of  the  most  complete  sentences  which 
escaped  his  lips. 

Then  he  glanced  at  the  mirror,  straightened  himself, 
and  did  what  he  ought  to  have  done  at  first — took 
advantage  of  Violetta's  permission  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

Meanwhile,  Violetta  was  somewhat  perturbed  by 
Lord  Verschoyle's  visit.  She  had  had  him  in  her  mind 
a  good  deal  and  was  fearful  lest  he  should  think  she 
had  not  done  the  correct  thing  in  keeping  him  in  the 


222          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

dark  about  the  trial  spin.  But  really,  she  was  quite 
innocent.  If  anybody  was  to  blame  it  was  Peter  Gumley. 

When  she  appeared,  followed  by  Mrs.  Stubbles  bearing 
a  tray  loaded  with  dainties,  she  looked  brighter  and 
fresher,  and  Lord  Verschoyle's  eyes  glinted  with  pleasure. 
To  his  military  mind  she  was  the  ideal  woman — neat, 
trim,  composed  yet  easy  in  manner  and  with  a  certain 
alertness  of  intellect  which  forbade  the  idea  than  she 
could  ever  be  taken  unawares.  With  all  this  there  was 
evidence  of  a  desire  to  please,  a  most  admirable  feminine 
virtue. 

The  tea  was  served  in  the  old-fashioned  way,  and 
Mrs.  Stubbles  discreetly  left  them  to  themselves,  sitting 
opposite  to  each  other.  Despite  her  unruffled  demean- 
our, Violetta  was  conscious  of  a  feeling  of  embarrassment. 
She  was  very  anxious  to  clear  away  any  possible  mis- 
understanding, but  she  did  not  quite  see  her  way  to 
approach  the  subject.  While  she  was  cudgelling  her 
brains,  Lord  Verschoyle  suddenly  said  : 

"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Vaughan,  you're  a  most  wonder- 
ful woman." 

Violetta  opened  her  eyes  wide  at  this. 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  In  the  way  you  can  keep  a  secret." 

"  That  isn't  wonderful  at  all.  What  really  is 
wonderful  is  the  delusion  men  are  under  in  fancying 
that  women  cannot  keep  their  lips  closed  when  they 
choose.  But  what's  the  secret  I've  kept  ?  " 

"  Before  I  answer  that  question,  I  want  to  know 
whether  we're  friends  or  enemies." 

Just  a  tinge  of  seriousness  had  crept  into  his  lordship's 
voice. 

"  Friends,  of  course.     Why  shouldn't  we  be  ?  " 

"  Quite  so.  I  can't  imagine  you  otherwise.  But 
there's  no  getting  away  from  the  fact  that  you're  up 
against  me  over  the  Derby." 

"  Then  Mr.  Gumley  has  told  you,"  she  cried,  with 
heightened  colour,  "I'm  glad  of  that,  He  had  no 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          223 

business  to  keep  you  in  the  dark  when  your  horse  was 
tried  against  mine.  I  was  very  angry  about  it." 

"  You  weren't  to  blame.  Peter  let  me  have  the 
whole  story  of  your  amazing  power  over  horses — and, 
may  I  add,  over — ahem  ! — men  also — and  I  again  say 
you're  a  most  wonderful  woman." 

"  Never  mind  about  that,  Lord  Verschoyle.  Do 
let  us  straighten  out  this  business  at  once.  I  guess 
Peter  has  told  you  that  if  Belphegor  runs  at  the  Derby 
as  he  ran  that  night  at  Holberry  Down  he's  bound  to 
win — barring  accidents,  of  course.  Quicksand  hasn't 
a  chance.  Belphegor 's  only  rival  is  Killarney,  and " 

"  And  Tom  All  worth  will  be  up,  which  he  wasn't 
the  other  night  at  Peter's,"  put  in  Verschoyle. 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  Allworth  even.  Belphegor 's 
the  finest  horse  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,  and  he'll  be  ridden 
by  the  only  jockey  who  understands  him.  He's  never 
been  fairly  tried  as  he  will  be  at  the  Derby." 

"  Good.  Now  we  know  where  we  are,  don't  we  ? 
Suppose  we  both  throw  our  cards  on  the  table.  I 
stand  to  win  £1,000  on  Killarney.  If  he  doesn't  pull  it 
off  I  drop  £5,000  or  £6,000." 

"  You  ought  to  hedge.     Back  Belphegor." 

"  Not  good  enough.  The  odds  this  morning  are 
dashed  close.  Killarney  5  to  2,  Belphegor  3  to  i. 
Had  a  wire  from  Tattersalls  an  hour  ago.  But ' 

His  lordship's  eyes  twinkled. 

"  I  backed  him  the  first  thing  in  the  morning  after 
the  trial  at  10  to  I.  Peter  came  over  the  same  night, 
and  we  had  a  long  jaw." 

"  Good  old  Peter,"  cried  Violetta,  clapping  her  hands. 
"  Now  that  was  really  awfully  decent  of  the  old  boy. 
I  think  I  rowed  him  a  bit  for  not  letting  you  know.  But 
tell  me — if  Belphegor  wins,  are  you  safe  ?  " 

"  Quite  safe." 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad." 

Violetta's  increased  colour  had  never  left  her.  Her 
eyes  fairly  blazed  with  excitement.  The  pleasure  she 


224  A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

felt  had  revealed  a  fascinating  dimple  in  her  left  cheek. 
She  looked  supremely  alluring. 

At  least,  that  was  Lord  Verschoyle's  opinion. 

"  And  what  about  you,"  said  he,  "  if  Killarney  wins  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can  pay  what  I  shall  owe  on  Belphegor." 

"  You  haven't  then  backed  my  horse  ?  " 

"  No.  You'll  forgive  me,  won't  you  ?  I  made  quite 
a  pile  through  his  victory  at  Newmarket." 

Lord  Verschoyle  sat  silent  ;  his  brows  wrinkling 
the  while. 

"  By  gad,  Miss  Vaughan,"  he  suddenly  burst  out, 
"  if  you're  not  as  puzzling  as  you  are  wonderful.  But 
that's  like  a  woman — I  mean  one  who's  interesting." 

"  Is  that  intended  for  a  compliment  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  it's  intended  for.  It's  the 
truth,  anyhow.  But  why  the  deuce  didn't  you  back 
Killarney  ?  Belphegor  wasn't  in  your  mind,  was  he  ? 
Anyhow,  he  hadn't  been  run  against  Killarney  at  that 
time." 

"  I  fancy  I'm  full  of  superstition.  I  wanted  you  to 
win  the  Two  Thousand  with  Killarney  and  so  I  backed 
him  for  you." 

"  For  me  ?  "  he  interposed,  in  a  bewildered  tone. 

"  Yes.  You  don't  in  the  least  understand,  but  that's 
of  no  consequence." 

How  could  he  understand  ?  What  did  he  know 
about  her  occult  power  of  acting  as  a  mascotte  ? 

"  Then  you  don't  care  about  my  carrying  off  the 
Blue  Riband  at  Epsom  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Well,  I'm  in  a  difficulty.  You  see  there's  Belphegor. 
I  should  like  him  to  win." 

It  was  not  necessary  to  explain  to  Lord  Verschoyle 
that  a  victory  of  Belphegor  carried  with  it  two  things — 
the  undoing  of  Dan  Westoby  and  the  re-instatement 
of  Norman  at  Normanhurst — that  is,  if  Norman  cared 
to  avail  himself  of  the  chance.  She  stood  to  win  a 
big  sum  with  Belphegor,  and  she  was  quite  prepared 
to  lend  Norman  a  substantial  amount.  But  the  great 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          225 

thing,  from  her  point  of  view,  was  that  in  running 
Belphegor  she  was  acting  for  Norman  and  not  for 
herself.  She  was  not  prepared  to  argue  the  matter  by 
the  light  of  common  sense.  What  had  common  sense 
to  do  with  the  occult  ? 

The  tea  was  over.  They  had  sauntered  to  the  window 
and  were  looking  across  the  garden.  The  season  was 
well  advanced,  and  iris,  lily  and  early  roses  were  in 
bloom.  The  air,  thanks  to  the  elevated  position  of  the 
Owl's  Nest,  was  delightfully  sweet  and  fresh  and  in- 
vigorating. The  sense  of  isolation  had  its  charm. 

"  Seems  to  me,  Miss  Vaughan,  that  I'm  better  off  than 
you.  I  shall  win  whichever  way  the  Derby  goes." 

"  It's  what  I  would  wish." 

He  cast  a  glance  at  her  face.  It  was  slightly  averted 
and  her  profile  alone  presented  itself.  How  firm,  how 
regular,  it  was  cut,  he  thought.  It  reminded  him  of  a 
cameo. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  abruptly,  "  that  I'm  greatly 
indebted  to  you  ?  But  for  your  coaxing  me  into  putting 
up  Tom  Allworth  for  the  Two  Thousand  I  should  have 
lost  heavily.  No  other  jockey  could  have  snatched 
victory  at  the  post  as  he  did.  That  boy's  riding  of 
Quicksand  was  a  marvel." 

"  He  rides  Belphegor  for  the  Derby,"  rejoined  Violetta, 
quickly. 

"  I  congratulate  you.  Well,  if  Belphegor  wins  it'll 
be  your  work  anyhow."  Then,  after  a  pause,  and  a 
fidgeting  twist  of  his  moustache,  he  went  on  : 

"  Look  here,  Miss  Vaughan,  I  want  to  ask  you  a 
question — will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

Violetta  stared  blankly  at  him.  Surely  he  could 
not  be  in  earnest. 

"  In  token  of  your  gratitude  ?  "  she  said  with  a  little 
mocking  smile. 

"  By  Jove,  no.  Don't  treat  the  thing  as  a  joke. 
I  never  in  my  life  was  more  serious.  I  suppose  I  didn't 
make  my  proposal  in  the  proper  way.  But  what  is 

P 


226          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

the  proper  way  ?  If  it  is  to  surround  one's  declaration 
with  a  lot  of  soppy  sentimentality,  well,  then  I  can't 
do  it.  But  I  don't  believe  you'd  care  for  that  kind 
of  thing." 

"  Oh,  I  should  hate  it." 

The  mocking  smile  had  fled.  There  was  nothing  of  the 
coy  maiden  in  her  frank,  clear  eyes.  She  spoke  as  she 
felt  and  he  knew  it. 

"  Exactly  what  I  should  expect,"  he  whispered 
joyously.  "  I  won't  say  that  if  I  were  eighteen  instead 
of  thirty-eight  I  shouldn't  have  burst  into  some  sort 
of  love  rot — compared  your  eyes  to  stars — they're 
much  brighter,  by  the  way — and  so  on.  As  it  is,  I 
again  ask,  will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer  at  once. 

"  It  wants  thinking  over — for  you  as  well  as  for  me," 
said  she  softly. 

"  I  grant  you.  I  don't  suggest  one  of  the  get-married- 
quick  war  weddings.  The  time's  gone  by  for  that 
madness.  I  don't  ask  you  to  decide  offhand." 

"  You  know  nothing  about  me,  and  if  I  marry  you 
or  anyone  you  ought  to  know." 

"  I  don't  see  that.  I  take  you  as  you  are.  I  don't 
believe,  and  I  never  did  believe,  in  the  stupid  theory 
that  women  were  born  to  tempt  and  deceive.  My 
best  friends  have  always  been  women." 

"  So,  then,  you  have  a  past,"  said  she,  the  ghost  of 
her  mocking  smile  flitting  across  her  face. 

"  Nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  anyhow.  But  you  won't 
want  to  know  my  past  any  more  than  I  want  to  know 
yours — if  you  have  what's  called  a  past." 

"  Well,  I  have,  and  I'd  rather  it  came  to  you  from 
the  lips  of  my  enemies  than  from  mine." 

"  That's  plucky  of  you.  But  surely  you  haven't 
enemies  ?  " 

"  Every  woman  who  tries  to  go  her  own  way  is  bound 
to  have.  When  she  defies  conventionality  she's  either 
ridiculed  or  condemned.  I  have  two  enemies — you 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          227 

saw  how  they  recognised  me  at  Newmarket — George 
Godfree  and  Dan  Westoby." 

"  Those  two  bounders  ?  "  cried  his  lordship,  hotly. 
"  Yes,  I  saw  the  fellows,  and  I  longed  to  kick  one  of 
them — that  unprincipled  ruffian  and  blackleg,  Godfree. 
I've  never  spoken  to  Westoby,  and  I've  had  no  dealings 
with  him,  but  I  believe  his  reputation's  none  of  the 
best." 

"  I've  no  doubt  you're  right.  Anyway,  I  refer  you 
to  these  two  for  my  character.  What  the  one  doesn't 
know  the  other  will  supply." 

"  Talk  to  those  blackguards  about  you  ?  I'm  damned 
— I  beg  your  pardon — if  I  do.  George  Godfree 's  one 
of  the  biggest  liars  and  scoundrels  going.  I  knew 
him  years  ago.  He  was  in  my  regiment  and  was 
cashiered  for  cheating  at  cards.  He  married  a  woman 
of  no  class.  Christine  Devenport  she  called  herself — 
I'll  go  bail  her  real  name  was  Sally  Spriggins  or  some- 
thing equally  low  down.  I  hear  that  the  precious 
couple  are  exploiting  themselves  in  the  West  end  picking 
up  flats.  They  work  in  couples  or  single-handed,  ac- 
cording to  circumstances.  Few  people  know  they're 
man  and  wife.  They're  careful  not  to  let  that  out. 
She  has  half  a  dozen  aliases,  but  her  pet  name's  Mrs. 
Willoughby-Smythe — a  widow  from  Chicago.  I 
apologise  to  you  for  plunging  you  into  Godfree's  sordid 
vicious  world." 

"  It  has  its  interesting  side,"  rejoined  Violetta, 
thoughtfully.  "  You've  told  me  more  about  Mr.  Godfree 
than  I  knew.  How  long  has  he  been  married  ?  " 

"  Ten  years  at  least  The  lady's  no  chicken,  though 
she  fakes  herself  up  to  look  like  one.  But  for  heaven's 
sake  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  of  this  miserable  subject. 
Do  get  back  to  what's  worrying  me  and  has  been  for 
days  and  days  past.  Are  you  going  to  think  over  my 
question  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly  if  you'll  promise  to  do  so  too.     Many 


228       A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

things  may  happen  that  may  cause  you  to  change  your 
mind." 

"  I  can't  imagine  anything — unless  you're  going  to 
marry  somebody  else." 

"  Well,  I'm  not,"  said  she,  with  more  emphasis  than 
she  intended. 

"  I  breathe  again.  Shall  we  leave  it  at  that,  Violetta  ? 
I  warn  you  it's  going  to  be  Violetta  with  me  whatever 
comes  to  pass.  You  don't  mind  ?  " 

"  No,  I've  been  Violetta  so  long  that  Miss  Vaughan 
sounds  quite  strange  and  hatefully  formal." 

It  was  clear  his  lordship  was  satisfied  with  the  way 
his  proposal  was  shaping.  He  held  her  hand  with  a 
gentle,  tender,  pressure  ;  he  looked  at  her  with  longing 
eyes.  Then  he  abruptly  said  good-bye  and  walked 
rapidly  away  as  though  he  must  have  kissed  her  had 
he  stayed. 

At  the  gate  he  turned  and  lifted  his  hat  with  a  sweeping 
bow  that  expressed  confidence.  Violetta  waved  her 
hand  and  smiled. 

But  the  smile  fled  as  she  went  into  the  house.  She  had 
so  much  to  ponder  over. 


MORE  food  for  thought  was  to  come.  Destiny  had 
ordained  that  day  to  be  the  most  absorbing  in  Violetta's 
life. 

Lord    Verschoyle's    proposal    had    embarrassed    her 
terribly.     She  liked  the  man.^she  admired_his  blunt 


honesty,  she  felt  he  was  chivalrous,  but  granting  all 
this,  why  should  she  marry  him  ?  Possibly  most  women 
past  the  romantic  age  of  the  teens  ask  themselves  this 
question  und^r  similar  circumstances,  and  when  they 
discover  a  reason  why  they  should  say  yes,  that  reason 
may  be  wholly  fanciful  and  ill  founded.  But  from 
some  feminine  idiosyncracy  it  generally  suffices. 
Violetta,  however,  had  not  arrived  at  this  stage.  She 
was  troubled. 

The  sudden  intrusion  of  Norman  and  his  affairs, 
brought  about  strangely  enough  by  Lord  Verschoyle, 
was  the  source  of  her  trouble.  She  had  it  now  in  her 
power  to  set  Norman  free  from  his  chains.  Of  course, 
he  ought  to  be  told,  but  what  would  follow  ? 

The  truth  was,  she  was  disappointed  with  Norman. 
She  had  lost  the  interest  she  once  felt  in  him.  He  had 
been  so  impassive — so  irresolute.  If  he  had  really 
been  in  love  with  her,  she  argued,  he  ought  to  have 
told  her  so,  wife  or  no  wife.  Whether  she  would  have 
encouraged  him  was  not  the  point.  Her  attitude  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  Anyhow,  he  had  lost 
his  chance  of  winning  her,  if  he  ever  had  one,  about 
which  she  was  extremely  doubtful. 

She  had  just  come  to  this  conclusion  when  Stubbles 
announced  a  visitor — a  gentleman.  As  usual,  he  had 
refused  to  give  his  name. 

Lord  Verschoyle  had  been  gone  about  twenty  minutes. 
It  was  hardly  likely  to  be  he.  He  certainly  would 
not  have  chosen  to  be  anonymous.  But  it  might  be 
Dan  Westoby. 

Not  on  any  account  would  she  admit  Westoby  into 
the  house,  and  she  went  into  the  hall  with  the  light  of 
battle  in  her  eyes. 

She  stopped,  transfixed  with  astonishment.  The 
visitor  was  Sir  John  Norman. 

He  came  forward  with  an  air  which  was  distinctly 
apologetic.  Violetta  instantly  recovered  herself  and 
advanced  to  meet  him.  They  shook  hands,  and  for  a 


230          A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

few  moments  not  a  word  passed.     Violetta  was  the 
first  to  speak. 

"  This  is  a  surprise,  Sir  John,"  said  she,  anxious  to 
end  the  embarrassment. 

"  I  ought  to  have  written.  It  isn't  fair  to  take  you 
unawares,"  he  stammered. 

'  You  haven't  done  that.     I'm  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Really  ?     I  don't  know  what  you  must  think  of  my 
silence.     But  I  had  good  reasons.     I've  gone  through 
a  great  deal  of  worry  and  anxiety." 
,    "  I  hope  that's  all  passed  away." 
i    "  No,  unfortunately." 

By  this  time  they  were  in  the  sitting-room.  Norman 
was  ill  at  ease  and  Violetta  pointed  to  a  chair.  He  sat 
down  wearily.  His  first  words  were  totally  unexpected  : 

"  That  was  Lord  Verschoyle  whom  I  passed  in  the 
lane  leading  to  your  road,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Only  by  sight.  He  may  know  me,  but  I  can't  say. 
At  all  events,  he  didn't  see  me.  He  seemed  in  very  good 
spirits." 

"  Did  he  ?  " 

Their  talk  appeared  destined  to  be  carried  on  in  jerks. 

"  I'd  like  to  explain  why  I  haven't  written  to  you. 
I  hope  you've  been  comfortable  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  feel  quite  at  home." 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts  he  hardly 
heard  her. 

"  I  needn't  tell  you,"  he  went  on,  "  that  my  worry 
was  about  Christine,  my  wife  you  know.  I've  been 
seeking  to  commence  proceedings  for  a  divorce.  There's 
ample  cause,  but  the  exposure  would  be  so  terrible  that  I 
hesitated.  Yet  things  can't  go  on  as  they  are,  and  I 
must  take  some  decided  step.  I  think  I  should  have 
written  or  called  upon  you  but  for  Mr.  Barlowe's  opinion 
that  it  would  not  be  prudent." 

"  You  mean  that  disagreeable  things  were  likely  to 
be  said  ?  " 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          331 

"  Yes,"  he  rejoined,  evidently  relieved  at  her  calm- 
ness. "  And  they  were  said  and  by  Ella.  She  amazed 
me  by  her  base  insinuations.  We  had  a  violent  quarrel, 
over  you,  and  I  left  the  house  next  morning.  I  haven't 
seen  or  heard  from  her  since." 

"  I'm  very  sorry  I  should  be  the  cause  of  your  es- 
trangement." 

"  It's  really  turned  out  for  the  best.  She's  going  to 
marry  the  vicar,  and  the  necessity  of  doing  something 
for  myself  forced  me  to  look  up  some  of  my  friends — 
Government  johnnies,  you  know — the  permanent 
officials  who  stick  to  their  posts  like  leeches  and  don't 
go  out  like  their  ornamental  heads  with  every  general 
election.  I've  been  landed  very  comfortably,  but  the 
drawback  is  that  I  must  drop  the  divorce  business. 
The  scandal  would  smash  me  up.  The  chief  of  my 
department  wouldn't  stand  it,  you  know." 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  would.  Well,  I  think  I  can 
get  you  out  of  your  difficulty.  Your  enquiries  I  guess, 
haven't  led  you  to  the  discovery  that  the  woman  with 
whom  you  went  through  the  marriage  ceremony  was  at 
the  time  the  wife  of  your  friend  George  Godfree." 

"  What !  Good  Heavens,  how  did  you  learn  that  ?  ' 
Norman  cried,  agitatedly. 

"  It  doesn't  matter.  All  I  can  say  is  that  my  in- 
formant isn't  likely  to  make  a  mistake  or  say  that 
which  isn't  true.  You've  only  got  to  get  data  to  go  upon 
and  Somerset  House  will  do  the  rest." 

Norman  made  no  reply.  He  was  quite  unnerved. 
He  sat  mopping  his  damp  brow  and  staring  helplessly 
at  Violetta. 

"  So  I'm  free,  and  thanks  to  you,"  at  last  he  muttered 
brokenly. 

"  No  thanks  to  me.  It  was  quite  by  accident  I 
learned  the  news.  All  the  same,  I  congratulate  you." 

With  a  violent  effort  he  pulled  himself  together  and 
speaking  fairly  calmly,  said  : 

"  It's  only  right  you  should  know  what  I've  been  told 


S32          A   QUfeEN    6F   THE   PADDOCK 

about  you.  It's  nothing  to  your  discredit,  but  it's 
worried  me  a  good  deal,  and  I  should  have  said  the 
story  was  a  lie  if  it  hadn't  come  from  two  sources — 
both  tainted,  I  may  say.  Mind  you,  it's  no  business 
of  mine,  and  I've  no  right  to  utter  a  word  to  you  on  the 
subject — it's  solely  that  I  may  ease  my  mind  by  hearing 
you  deny  what's  being  said." 

Violetta  suspected  what  was  coming,  but  she  would  not 
assist  him.  In  her  opinion,  he  had  either  deteriorated 
or  some  change  had  come  over  herself.  Somehow,  she 
no  longer  felt  sympathetic  towards  him. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  simply. 

"  It's  said  you're  continually  on  the  race  course — 
that  you  bet — that  you're  friendly  with  the  men  who 
are  my  aversion — bookmakers.  You  know  I  owe  my 
ruin  to  one — Dan  Westoby  by  name." 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  forget.  What  you've  heard  about 
my  going  to  races,  betting,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  is 
perfectly  true.  I  even  own  a  race  horse,  but  that's  a 
secret.  Keep  it  to  yourself,  please." 

He  was  staggered.  He  stared  at  her  amazed, 
confused. 

"  I — I  am  sorry,"  he  stammered.  "  The  associations, 
the  surroundings  of  the  turf  are  to  me  so  repulsive 
that— that " 

"  Of  course  they  are.  They  must  be.  You  were 
unlucky.  Do  you  recollect  once  forbidding  me  to  talk 
about  horses  and  racing  ?  It's  I,  now,  who  forbid 
your  mentioning  the  subject.  It  isn't  worth  while, 
is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you're  right — you  always  were.  No  doubt 
I'm  prejudiced.  You  see,  I  had  such  a  beastly  ex- 
perience and  of  course  I  was  a  fool.  But "  he 

looked  at  her  yearningly.  She  had  spoken  so  kindly  ; 
she  hadn't  shown  the  slightest  rancour  at  his  pre- 
sumptuous criticism.  She  was  more  than  ever  adorable. 

"  Confound  it,  Violetta,"  he  burst  out,  "  now  that  I 
can  say  what's  in  my  heart,  why  should  I  keep  it  back  ? 


A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK          233 

I  love  you — I've  always  loved  you  from  the  day  when 
I  first  saw  you  at  Normanhurst.  Things  then  were 
impossible,  of  course,  but  by  Heaven — if  I  had  only  run 
across  you  when — when  I  was  free " 

"  Don't  make  me  laugh,"  she  gently  interposed. 
"  What  you're  saying  isn't  very  flattering,  you  know. 
I  can't  help  thinking  you  were  at  that  time  ready  to 
marry  anybody.  Your  Christine  amply  satisfied 
you." 

Norman  bit  his  lip  and  coloured  deeply.  He  stood 
rebuked,  and  he  knew  he  deserved  her  sarcasm.  He 
knew  also  that  a  declaration  of  love  would  not  meet 
with  much  success — at  all  events,  while  Violetta  was 
in  her  present  mood. 

But  some  impulse,  some  temptation  led  him  on. 

"  Oh,  I  admit  I  was  an  ass — an  egregious  ass.  And 
being  so,  I  suppose  I'm  not  good  enough  for  you.  But 
I  should  worship  you,  all  the  same." 

"  Thanks.  I  don't  want  any  man's  worship.  That 
kind  of  thing's  a  delusion." 

"  It  may  be  so,  but  that's  how  I  feel.  Just  to  con- 
vince you  that  I've  a  grain  of  practical  common  sense, 
may  I  say  that  my  pay  is  quite  substantial — much  more 
than  I'm  worth  I'll  swear — that  Barlowe  tells  me  the 
landed  property  he  saved  from  the  wreck  is  rapidly 
increasing  in  value,  and  that  he's  in  hopes  of  proving 
that  Westoby  cheated  me  over  Normanhurst." 

"  I  congratulate  you." 

"  All  this  means  a  lot  to  me.  It  means  my  hopes," 
went  on  Norman  hurriedly,  "  and  now  that  I  know 
from  your  lips  that  I'm  no  longer  shackled,  the  cherished 
wish  of  my  heart " 

"  I  can  understand  how  landed  property  has  gone  up," 
interposed  Violetta,  remorselessly  cutting  him  short — 
she  was  not  in  the  mood  for  Norman's  sentimental 
vein — "  I  always  said  the  rent  of  the  Owl's  Nest  was 
far  too  low.  I'm  quite  prepared  to  pay  more." 

"  Violetta  !  "  he  exclaimed,  reproachfully. 


234          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

"  I'm  speaking  in  your  own  interest.  You  really 
ought  to  be  more  business-like." 

"  What  has  business  to  do  with  love  ?  I  want  you 
for  my  wife,  Violetta.  I've  always  wanted  you " 

"  Yes,  you  said  as  much  just  now,  but  it's  of  no  use. 
I'm  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  but  my  answer  is  no,  and 
always  will  be." 

She  did  not  wish  to  be  harsh  in  her  tone  and  manner, 
but  she  could  not  help  it.  He  irritated  her  at  that 
moment. 

His  face  fell.     He  looked  utterly  miserable. 

"  We've  been  exceeding!}'  good  friends,"  went  on 
Violetta,  quickly,  lest  there  should  be  an  embarrassing 
pause,  "  and  I  should  like  our  friendship  to  continue, 
but  there'd  be  an  end  to  it  if  you  imagined  I  should 
alter  my  mind.  Take  my  advice  and  lose  no  time 
in  verifying  what  I  told  you  about — your  Christine." 

"  Of  course.  I — I  can  see  that  I've  been  premature. 
I  ought  to  have  made  sure  where  I  was  before  I  said 
what  I  did  just  now." 

"  It  would  have  made  no  difference.  Pray  don't 
mistake  me." 

She  was  becoming  distressed.  She  wanted  him  to  go. 
Why  couldn't  he  see  that  ?  She  had  had  the  day  of 
her  life.  Three  proposals  of  marriage  within  some 
ten  hours  !  What  woman  could  go  through  such  a 
strain  and  not  show  it  ? 

"  Very  well.     I  obey.     Good-bye." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  she  took  it.  Her  turmoil 
of  mind  was  evident  in  her  face.  Her  expression  was 
softer  than  Norman  had  ever  seen  it.  It  was  tender. 
It  had  something  in  it  indefinitely  appealing.  In  an 
instant  he  was  tempted  to  recur  to  the  tabooed  subject. 
Naturally,  he  imagined  her  unusual  emotion  was  due 
to  his  influence,  whereas  all  she  wished  was  to  get  rid  of 
him. 

He  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  she  was  alone. 
Truly,  Violetta  might  have  said  that  no  act  in  his  life 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          235 

became  John  Norman  so  well  as  his  departure  out  of 
hers  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
VIOLETTA'S  TRYING  DAY 

OF  her  three  offers  of  marriage,  Violetta  thought  most 
about  Dan  Westoby's.  It  oppressed  her.  It  filled  her 
with  apprehension.  But  it  also  stimulated  her  to  be 
on  the  alert.  She  felt  that  Westoby  was  not  a  man  to 
take  a  defeat  lying  down. 

She  was  right.  She  had  not  left  him  five  minutes 
before  he  sent  a  wire  to  Godfree,  and  then,  locking  the 
door,  gathered  up  the  torn  Treasury  notes  with  the 
intention  of  piecing  the  fragments  together  at  some 
time  or  another.  If  Violetta  was  fool  enough  to  throw 
away  £250  he  was  not,  and  especially  at  that  time. 

Godfree  arrived  post  haste.  He  had  some  news 
about  Violetta  which  he  had  kept  in  reserve  until  a 
fitting  moment  came  for  making  money  out  of  it.  That 
moment  had  now  arrived.  He  and  Westoby  lunched 
together  and  Godfree,  after  hearing  what  the  bookmaker 
had  to  say,  told  him  the  important  piece  of  news — for  a 
consideration.  The  news  was  that  the  owner  of  Bel- 
phegor  was  Violetta  Vaughan. 

A  sickly  grin  spread  itself  over  Westoby's  face.  He 
rarely  laughed  audibly.  He  chuckled  sometimes,  but 
more  often  a  noiseless  grin  sufficed,  as  it  did  now.  After 
a  long  consultation  Godfree  received  his  instructions 
and  returned  to  town  with  money  in  his  pocket.  All 
that  evening  the  Honourable  George  prowled  about 
Leicester  Square,  Coventry  Street,  Piccadilly  Circus, 
and  the  Piccadilly  end  of  Regent  Street,  occasionally 
making  brief  excursions  into  Shaftesbury  Avenue.  He 


236 

specially  favoured  the  outside  of  restaurants  and  taverns. 

At  last  he  found  the  man  he  was  seeking — a  miserable 
looking  creature,  seedily  dressed,  blotchy  faced,  dull 
eyed — Alf  Richards. 

"  Hullo,  Alf,"  said  Godfree,  thickly  (while  hovering 
about  the  exteriors  of  the  various  hostelries  he  had  not 
forgotten  the  interiors),  "  what  are  you  up  to  ?  " 

"  Same  old  game,  Mr.  Godfree — stony  broke.  It's  a 
toss  up  between  the  workhouse  and  Father  Thames." 

"  While  you're  making  up  your  mind  come  and  have 
a  '  livelier.'  There's  just  time." 

It  was  ten  minutes  to  ten.  A  public  house  was  handy, 
and  George  ran  his  man  into  the  saloon  bar  and  elbowed  his 
way  through  a  jostling,  noisy  crowd  clamouring  for  their 
last  drink.  Godfree  was  well-known  to  the  girls  behind 
the  counter,  and  was  soon  served — two  double  brandies. 
Alf  swallowed  his  at  two  gulps.  His  eyes  glistened. 
He  looked  at  Godfree  expectantly.  He  knew  the  Hon- 
ourable George  was  not  one  to  fling  his  money  over  so 
wretched  an  object  as  himself  without  wanting  something 
in  return. 

"  Look  here,  Alf,"  whispered  Godfree.  "  I  can  put 
you  on  to  a  good  job,  but  we  can't  jaw  about  it  here. 
Come  along  to  the  Cafe  Astrachan." 

Amid  the  raucous  yells  of  "  Time,  gents,  please," 
the  two  men  edged  themselves  out.  The  Cafe  Astrachan 
was  not  five  minutes  walk  away,  and  the  clock  was  on 
the  stroke  of  ten  when  they  reached  the  grimy  uninviting 
establishment  which  might  have  been  a  third  class 
estaminet  of  Montremart  in  its  suggestiveness  of  dirt 
and  sottish  dissipation. 

The  inside  favoured  the  resemblance.  It  was  a  long, 
narrow  shop  with  bare  walls  and  no  attempt  at  decora- 
tion beyond  a  couple  of  faded  woollen  rugs  hanging 
from  two  of  the  panels,  with  what  object  only  the 
proprietor  knew.  To  the  ordinary  person  they  were 
of  neither  use  nor  ornament.  The  air  was  hot,  foetid, 
stuffy  with  the  fumes  of  rank  tobacco.  Obvious  second- 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          237 

hand  marble-topped  tables  and  uncomfortable  cheap 
non-upholstered  chairs  were  ranged  in  two  rows  with  a 
centre  gangway.  There  were  no  such  luxuries  as  velvet 
benches  ;  if  the  floor  was  covered  with  oilcloth,  the 
pattern  was  indistinguishable  through  wear  and  dirt. 

The  place  was  about  three  parts  full  with  a  nondescript 
crowd,  mostly  dark  visaged,  unkempt  haired  and  shabbily 
dressed.  Clean  collars  and  cuffs  were  apparently  un- 
known. Foreign  nationalities  prevailed,  but  by  a 
quarter  past  ten  the  scourings  of  the  neighbouring 
restaurants  would  swarm  in  and  tax  the  energies  of  the 
active,  business  like  waitresses  to  the  uttermost. 

The  Astrachan  was  of  the  type  of  cafe  which  made 
you  feel  depressed  and  degraded  directly  you  entered 
it.  Some  of  the  giggling  noisy  girls  in  tawdry  dresses 
and  hats,  at  which  a  wardrobe  dealer  would  have  turned 
up  her  nose,  might  have  looked  decent  in  other  sur- 
roundings, but  here  they  suggested  the  Parisian  apache 
though  for  the  most  part  they  were  English.  Their 
male  companions,  who  paid  in  lamb-like  fashion  for 
anything  the  girls  wanted,  and  had  probably  been  doing 
so  elsewhere  all  the  evening,  had  no  characteristics 
beyond  extreme  foolishness.  They  were  probably  under 
the  impression  they  were  seeing  "  life." 

Somehow  the  unhealthy  pallor  of  some  of  these  young 
fools,  their  leaden  eyes,  their  subdued  voices,  the  painted 
cheeks,  the  blackened  eyebrows,  the  excessively  red 
lips,  and  the  hysterical  laughter  of  the  women — most 
of  them  hardly  out  of  their  teens — brought  to  mind 
the  sinister  suggestion  of  cocaine,  veronal  and  goodness 
knows  what  other  modern  nerve  poisons. 

Godfree  and  Richards  took  two  vacant  seats  against 
the  wall  and  were  soon  discussing  the  "  job."  It  had 
to  do  with  the  profession  into  which  Alf  Richards 
proposed  entering  years  and  years  before — doctoring 
and  drugs.  The  din  was  so  deafening  and  incessant 
when  the  late  comers  packed  the  place  that  the  two 
men  could  talk  freely  without  the  necessity  of  whispering 


238          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

save  at  times  when  the  kernal  of  the  matter  was  ap- 
proached. 

Alf  was  clearly  averse  from  undertaking  Godfree's 
commission.  Godfree  got  quite  angry  at  the  man's 
obstinacy,  and  when  Godfree  was  angry  and  half  drunk 
he  was  not  very  choice  in  his  language. 

"  Don't  be  a  damned  ass,"  he  growled.  "  You  can't 
afford  it.  You'll  have  to  do  what  I  want.  You'd  be 
in  an  infernal  fix  if  I  were  to  drop  a  line  to  the  police 
about — well,  you  can  finish  the  rest  for  yourself." 

The  haggard  face  of  Alf  Richards  was  convulsed  with 
terror.  He  knew  well  to  what  Godfree  alluded.  Deep 
down  in  the  secret  life  of  all  great  cities  exists  a  mode 
of  income  open  to  any  man  or  woman  with  (or  without) 
a  little  surgical  skill.  From  time  to  time  the  news- 
papers reveal  the  secret.  Richards  when  in  desperate 
straits  had  made  use  of  his  hospital  studies  in  this 
way,  and  though  he  had  hitherto  escaped  the  law, 
Nemesis  was  always  hanging  over  him. 

"  All  that's  past  and  forgotten,"  he  mumbled. 
"  What  holds  me  back  is  that  I  hate  going  against  Miss 
Vaughan.  She's  been  a  good  friend  to  me  and " 

"  Bah,  shut  up.  Don't  be  maudlin.  Violetta 
Vaughan's  not  worth  thinking  twice  about.  She's 
no  better  and  no  worse  than  others  of  her  class  who  sell 
themselves  and  live  to  fleece  men.  She's  an  unscrupu- 
lous Circe  and  worse.  /  know." 

"  What  do  you  know  ?  "  suddenly  came  the  words 
from  across  the  table. 

Godfree  raised  his  eyes.  He  recognised  Lord 
Verschoyle  sitting  opposite. 

"  This  is  a  private  conversation,"  returned  Godfree, 
with  an  insolent  stare.  "  You've  no  right  to  interfere." 

"  I've  every  right  when  you  speak  insultingly  of  a 
lady  with  whom  I  am  acquainted,  in  a  voice  loud  enough 
for  me  and  others  to  hear." 

"  If  you  hadn't  been  listening  you  wouldn't  have 
heard." 


A   QUEEN   OF  THE   PADDOCK          239 

"  You're  a  liar  and  a  blackguard.  I  don't  want  to 
make  a  disturbance  in  this  place.  I  ask  you  to  come 
outside." 

"  And  I  ask  you  to  mind  your  own  business." 

Verschoyle's  reply  was  short  and  sharp.  His  fist 
shot  out  and  landed  full  on  Godfree's  nose. 

"  That's  my  business,"  he  exclaimed.  "  If  you're 
a  man,  now  come  out." 

Instantly  the  place  was  in  a  tumult.  Men  sprang 
to  their  feet,  those  far  from  the  scene  mounted  the 
chairs,  the  waitresses  fled,  women  screamed,  the  agitated 
proprietor  crying  out  something  in  a  foreign  tongue 
vainly  tried  to  force  a  path  through  the  crowded  gang- 
way. 

In  his  younger  days  Godfree  had  been  a  bit  of  a 
bruiser,  but  he  had  long  since  lost  his  alertness  and 
activity.  He  retaliated  but  his  blow  missed.  Before 
the  conflict  could  be  renewed,  some  of  the  men  restrained 
the  combatants,  and  the  agonised  proprietor  having 
by  this  time  edged  his  way  to  the  table,  begged  them 
to  go  out.  He  did  not  want  to  send  for  the  police. 

Godfree  was  blinded  by  passion.  When  he  thought 
of  Violetta  and  of  his  continual  rebuffs  at  her  hands, 
the  recollection  always  enraged  him,  and  this  galling 
recollection  was  in  his  mind  as  he  uttered  his  foul 
aspersions.  Physically,  however,  he  was  no  coward. 
He  sullenly  rose  and  went  towards  the  door.  Verschoyle 
had  already  moved  thither  and  was  awaiting  him. 

Soon  they  were  outside.  Verschoyle  had  his  old 
chum,  Sir  Frederick  Dartnell  with  him.  The  two 
had  strolled  into  the  Cafe  Astrachan  purely  out  of 
curiosity.  This  curiosity  had  been  soon  satisfied, 
and  they  were  about  to  leave  when  Godfree's  words 
reached  their  ears. 

A  fairly  wide  court  was  but  two  or  three  yards  away. 
Godfree  knew  it  well.  Said  he  in  a  grating,  sneering 
voice  when  they  were  at  the  corner  of  the  court : 

"  You  took  a  mean  advantage  of  me  inside  the  cafe". 


240          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

You  knew  we  couldn't  fight  there.  It  won't  be  the 
same  thing  here." 

He  jerked  his  head  towards  the  opening  of  the  court 
and  turned  into  it.  Verschoyle  followed,  despite  the 
whispered  remonstrances  of  Dartnell,  to  whom  a  fracas 
of  a  low  type  did  not  appeal.  Verschoyle  took  not 
the  slightest  notice  of  his  friend's  words.  He  simply 
handed  him  his  hat. 

There  was  no  preliminary  squaring  or  feinting.  The 
two  went  at  it  tooth  and  nail.  They  were  about  the 
same  age  and  build,  but  whereas  Verschoyle  was  in 
the  very  pink  of  condition,  Godfree  was  quite  off  colour. 
Almost  the  first  blow  settled  him.  He  fell  heavily 
and  remained  on  the  ground  like  a  log. 

Verschoyle  turned  to  Richards,  who  was  looking  on 
dismayed. 

"  See  to  your  friend.     I've  done  with  him." 

Richards  sided  up,  but  instead  of  taking  notice  of 
Godfree  he  whispered  hoarsely  to  Lord  Verschoyle  : 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  what  you  did.  George  Godfree 
deserved  all  he  got  and  more.  It  was  all  lies,  every 
word — about  Miss  Vaughan.  She's  as  straight  a  woman 
as  ever  breathed.  By  God,  there's  few  who  would  have 
come  unscathed  out  of  the  beastly  crowd  she  was  in 
some  four  or  five  years  ago  as  she  did." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  her  ?  Who  the  deuce 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  no  good  to  anybody,  so  what  does  it  matter  who 
I  am  ?  I'll  only  say  this,  that  if  Violetta  Vaughan's 
your  friend  you've  got  a  real  good  pal." 

"  I  believe  you.  But  tell  me.  What  did  you  mean 
by  that  '  beastly  crowd  ?  ' 

"  The  Beak  Street  Club  crew.     It  was  this  way." 

In  a  few  words  Alf  Richards  gave  a  summary  of  his 
recollections  of  Captain  Vaughan's  venture,  to  which 
Verschoyle  listened  with  intense  interest.  Alf  did 
not  forget  to  enlarge  on  Violetta's  many  good  points. 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          241 

"  Thanks.  Now  about  Westoby.  What  has  he  to 
do  with  Miss  Vaughan  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Westoby  doesn't  often  open  his 
mouth.  But  you'd  better  get.  Godfree's  moving.  I 
don't  want  him  to  see  me  talking  to  you.  He's  dan- 
gerous." 

"  Is  he  ?  Well,  you've  done  me  a  good  turn  and 
we'll  dry  up.  You  don't  look  over  flourishing.  This 
may  be  of  use  to  you." 

He  thrust  a  treasury  note  into  Alf's  hand  and  strode 
away  with  Dartnell. 

"  What  the  devil's  the  answer  to  this  riddle  ?  " 
asked  the  latter.  "  You're  about  the  last  one  to  get 
into  a  street  brawl.  I'm  not  curious,  but,  hang  it,  I'd 
like  to  know.  Who's  Violet ta  Vaughan  ?  " 

"  The  woman  I  mean  to  marrv — if  she'll  have  me." 


CHAPTER  XXV 
DAN  WESTOBY'S  LAST  COUP 

PETER  GUMLEY  warned  by  Violetta,  took  extra  pre- 
cautions to  guard  the  "  cracks."  She  also  made  a 
proposition  to  him  to  which  he  was  strongly  opposed 
but  she  was  so  insistent  that  at  last  he  reluctlantly 
gave  way. 

Gumley  had  no  fear  of  any  attempt  at  foul  play  being 
successful,  but  he  had  not  reckoned  upon  Parsons,  his 
discharged  groom.  At  one  corner  of  the  Holberry 
Down  property  was  a  little  patch  of  low-lying  woodland 
always  swampy  even  in  the  time  of  drought.  Beneath 
the  patches  of  weeds  and  water  lay  a  mass  of  glutinous 
mud  and  slime  not  much  less  than  a  foot  deep.  On 
the  shelving  bank  nearest  the  dry  level  ground  amid 

R 


242          A   QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

the  undergrowth  was  a  fence  of  barbed  wire.  No 
watchers  patrolled  this  spot,  as  Parsons  well  knew. 

On  the  further  side  of  the  wood  was  barren  common 
land,  on  which  many  years  before  a  squatter  had  built 
a  hut.  Before  he  had  remained  long  enough  to  establish 
his  claim  he  was  ejected  but  the  hut  was  left  to  decay 
at  its  leisure.  Not  far  from  the  hut  was  a  post  some 
ten  feet  high,  with  a  fragment  of  a  cross-piece  hanging 
loose,  black  with  age  and  in  places  greenish  with  some 
kind  of  fungus.  It  was  all  that  was  left  of  the  gallows 
where  a  century  and  a  half  ago  and  more,  many  a 
criminal  had  passed  his  last  moments. 

After  nightfall  few  people  cared  to  cross  the  common, 
and  its  solitude  made  the  hut  a  very  convenient  place 
for  Godfree  and  Parsons  to  meet  and  arrange  their 
plans.  The  coup  was  to  be  brought  off  on  the  eve 
of  the  Derby,  run  very  late  that  year. 

Parsons  was  not  seen  that  night  at  the  Barley  Mow. 
He  had  taken  up  his  quarters  at  the  hut,  and  with  his 
pipe  and  a  flask  of  whisky  for  his  companions,  awaited 
the  coming  of  Godfree  and  Richards.  The  latter, 
terrorised  by  Godfree's  threats  had  surrendered  himself 
completely. 

The  hours  crept  slowly  on.  The  time  appointed 
for  the  meeting  was  midnight.  Every  now  and  again 
Parsons  ventured  from  the  hut,  and  looked  anxiously 
at  the  sky.  His  fear  was  lest  there  should  be  a  moon, 
but  there  did  not  seem  to  be  much  cause  for  appre- 
hension on  that  score.  The  night  was  as  dark  as  the 
most  enthusiastic  burglar  could  wish. 

A  little  after  midnight  he  heard  the  steps  which  he 
expected.  The  door  opened,  and  Godfree  appeared. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  close-fitting  suit,  and  with  a  travelling 
cap  with  the  lapels  pulled  down  over  his  ears.  It  may 
have  been  that  the  night  was  chilly,  or  that  he  wanted 
to  disguise  himself  slightly.  If  the  latter,  the  cap 
answered  the  purpose  fairly  well. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  are  you  ready  ?  " 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          243 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  we'll  start.  There's  no  hurry,  so  we'll  take 
it  leisurely.  I  reckon  one  o'clock's  a  good  time,  eh  ? 
What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  It  ought  to  be.  Ten  o'clock's  about  the  hour 
everybody  goes  to  bed." 

They  quitted  the  hut  and  tramped  their  way  through 
the  bracken,  which  was  now  fairly  high,  towards  the 
gallows  post.  In  the  darkness  a  few  yards  away  a  man 
was  standing  motionless,  bis  head  bent,  his  hands 
thrust  in  the  side  pockets  of  his  overcoat.  A  slight 
mist  had  arisen  within  a  very  few  minutes  and  the 
man's  outline  was  so  vague  he  might  have  been  simply 
a  shadow. 

Godfree  went  up  to  him  and  gripped  his  arm  savagely. 

"  What  are  you  mooning  over,  you  ass,"  he  whispered. 
"  Pull  yourself  together.  If  you're  going  to  funk  the 
business  give  the  stuff  to  me.  But  don't  suppose,  Alf, 
you're  out  of  it  because  I  take  on  the  job.  I  guess  I 
needn't  remind  you  that  I  know  something  which  might 
lead  you  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the  gallows.  You're 
close  to  it  now,  by  the  way.  Get  me  ?  " 

Alf  Richards  turned  his  face — ghastly  grey  it  looked 
in  the  gloom — towards  the  horrible  memento  of  the 
past. 

"  I  get  you  right  enough,  Mr.  Godfree.  You're  the 
sort  of  man  who'd  chuck  anyone — your  best  friend  if 
need  be — when  they're  no  longer  any  use  to  you." 

"  Shut  up.  Are  you  going  to  back  out  ?  That's  what 
I  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  No.  I'm  up  to  the  neck  in  this  black  business  and 
I'll  have  to  go  through  with  it." 

"  I  reckon  you  will,"  muttered  Godfree. 

Ever  since  the  night  of  his  humiliation  at  the  hands 
of  Lord  Verschoyle,  Godfree  had  never  relaxed  his 
hold  on  Alf  Richards.  He  had  kept  him  continually 
in  a  state  of  semi-intoxication. 

They  tramped   on  to  the  wood,    Richards  walking 


244          A    QUEEN   OF   THE    PADDOCK 

between  his  two  companions,  who  had  their  hands 
beneath  his  arms  and  forced  him  to  go  their  pace. 
Soon  they  were  on  the  brink  of  the  treacherous  spot. 
For  nights  past  Parsons  had  been  making  preparations 
for  crossing.  He  had  collected  a  number  of  boulders 
and  had  sunk  them  at  convenient  intervals  to  form 
stepping  stones.  Risky  as  was  the  showing  of  a  light, 
he  flashed  his  electric  torch  and  showed  the  tops  of  the 
stones  peeping  above  the  water. 

"  This  fool'll  never  keep  his  footing,"  growled  Godfree. 
'  You'll  have  to  carry  him  on  your  back,  Parsons." 

"  Not  me,  Mr.  Godfree.  I'd  rather  leave  him  here 
and  call  for  him  as  we  come  back.  What's  the  good 
of  him  as  he  is  ?  Pretty  nigh  non  compost,  I  should 
say." 

Godfree  admitted  this.  Hitherto  he  had  not  dared 
to  trust  Alf  Richards  out  of  his  sight,  but  in  his  present 
half-helpless  and  wholly  stupid  condition  he  couldn't 
do  much  harm.  Certainly  just  now  he  was  a  nuisance 
and  a  hindrance. 

"  Give  him  a  drop  of  his  own  dope  an'  he'll  be  safe 
enough,"  suggested  Parsons  facetiously. 

"  Don't  talk  rot.     Let  us  go  on  and  see  what  happens." 

This  was  very  soon  settled.  Richards  promptly 
collapsed. 

"  That  does  it,"  said  Parsons.  "  He'll  have  to  stay 
where  he  is.  Has  he  got  the  stuff  on  him  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  has.  I  wanted  him  to  do  the  job.  He 
knows  the  ropes,  but  we'll  have  to  carry  on  by  our- 
selves." 

Godfree  thrust  his  hand  into  the  pocket  of  the  pros- 
trate man's  overcoat  and  took  out  a  cardboard  box 
and  a  phial.  Richards  seemed  indifferent  to  or  un- 
conscious of  what  was  being  done. 

Presently  Godfree  and  Parsons  attempted  the  tricky 
crossing  and  got  over  safely.  The}'  scrambled  up  the 
bank,  cutting  the  lower  strands  of  the  barbed  wire 
fence  on  their  way,  and  Parsons  made  for  a  sort  of  gully 


A  QUEEN  OF  THE  PADDOCK       245 

at  the  bottom  of  which  trickled  a  thin  stream.  This 
they  crept  along  and  were  well  concealed. 

The  gully  led  to  the  wall  of  the  stable  yard,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  the  wall  was  a  circular  opening  to  allow  the 
passage  of  the  water.  The  latter  continued  its  course 
inside  and  had  an  outlet  at  the  wail  on  the  other  side 
of  the  yard.  People  often  wanted  to  know  the  good 
of  this  little  open  ditch  with  its  surface  drainage  water. 
They  were  told  that  if  the  water  were  prevented  from 
coming  into  the  stable  yard  the  soil  which  was  clay 
would  dry  and  shrink,  and  the  solid  stable  buildings 
would  be  unsafe. 

Parsons,  who  was  familiar  with  every  nook  and 
cranny  of  the  Holberry  Down  stables,  saw  how  the  gully 
and  the  circular  opening  in  the  wall  could  be  made 
use  of.  The  opening  was  large  enough  for  even  a  man 
as  big  as  Godfree  to  creep  through. 

It  was  done.  Parsons  went  first,  and  soon  the  two 
were  crouching  in  the  darkness. 

"  Which  is  the  door  of  Belphegor's  stable  ?  " 
whispered  Godfree. 

"  Keep  close  to  me  an'  I'll  take  you  straight  to  it. 
He's  in  a  stable  all  to  himself.  I  told  you  so.  Makes 
things  easy,  don't  it  ?  " 

"  What  about  the  dog  ?  " 

"  Kennel's  right  over  t'other  side  of  the  yard.  He 
won't  bother  us  if  you  don't  make  no  noise." 

Presently  he  and  Godfree  were  opposite  the  door. 
Parsons  had  a  duplicate  key  which  he  had  had  made  to 
further  his  depredations  on  the  corn  bin  when  he  was 
in  Peter's  employ.  It  was  well  oiled  and  moved  noise- 
lessly in  the  lock.  They  crept  inside  unseen,  favoured 
by  the  darkness  and  mist. 

Parsons,  of  course,  knew  the  situation  of  Belphegor's 
stall,  and  crept  towards  it.  He  could  discern  a  vague 
outline  of  a  figure  on  a  bundle  of  hay  at  the  entrance. 
Godfree  saw  it  too. 

"  Make  for  the  boy — quick,"  he  breathed. 


246          A   QUEEN   OF   THE   PADDOCK 

The  contemplated  surprise  attack  might  have  been 
brought  off  but  for  Belphegor  who  suddenly  elected 
to  be  restive.  The  recumbent  form  on  the  hay  sprang 
into  life.  The  light  of  an  electric  torch  flashed  into 
the  two  men's  faces. 

"  You  vil -" 

The  word  was  never  completed.  Parsons  had  clutched 
the  speaker's  throat,  while  Godfree  whipped  open  the 
cardboard  box.  In  a  second  a  sponge  saturated  with 
chloroform  was  pressing  over  nose  and  mouth.  It  was 
dark  once  more  for  in  the  scuffle  the  electric  torch  had 
been  dropped  among  the  hay. 

All  seemed  to  be  going  well,  but  again  Belphegor's 
temper  asserted  itself.  Whatever  was  the  cause,  he 
lashed  out  a  hoof  and  caught  Godfree  a  nasty  kick  on 
the  shoulder. 

"  Curse  the  brute,"  he  muttered,  together  with  a  few 
other  epithets. 

"  Been  wrorse  if  he'd  kicked  your  leg,"  whispered 
Parsons.  "  Where's  the  dope  ?  Stick  the  bottle  to 
the  boy's  lips.  A  drop  or  two  follerin'  that  chloryform 
ought  to  do  the  trick." 

Godfree's  right  arm  was  useless.  Parsons  had  to 
administer  the  dose. 

"  It'll  be  all  a  job  to  physic  that  beast.  /  know  him 
too  well.  I'd  rather  put  a  bullet  through  his  brains. 
'Spose  I  fetch  him  a  crack  over  the  hocks.  That  ought 
to  spoil  his  running,  I  guess." 

A  long  handled  brush  was  on  its  nail  close  to  the  stall, 
just  as  it  used  to  hang  in  Parson's  time.  He  snatched 
at  it,  at  the  same  moment  Godfree  gripped  his  arm. 

"  Leave  it  alone,  you  damned  fool.  I  don't  want  to 
hurt  the  horse." 

"  What !     Warn't  there  to  be  any  hocussing  ?  " 

"  No,  not  of  the  horse — the  boy.  Both  I  and  Dan 
\Vestoby  mean  to  let  the  horse  run  and  do  his  best 
or  worst — most  likely  his  worst." 

"  What  did  you  bring  me  here  for,  then  ?  " 


A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK  247 

'  You've  been  well  paid.  Why  are  you  grumbling  ? 
Look  here,  you  blockhead.  No  one  knows  better  than 
you  that  there's  only  one  jockey  who  can  ride  Belphegor. 
Can't  you  see  that  if  we  knock  out  young  Tim  Hollis 
Belphegor  hasn't  a  dog's  chance  of  winning,  no  matter 
who's  up  ?  Won't  that  rile  its  owner  more  than  any- 
thing ?  Hocussing  the  brute  with  Hollis  on  his  back 
wouldn't  do  it  half  as  much.  What  about  that  ?  " 

He  pointed  to  the  inanimate  form  on  the  hay. 

"  Miss  Vaughan  may  scratch  him,"  said  Parsons, 
gloomily. 

"  Not  she.  I'll  give  the  devil  his  due.  She's  too  good 
a  sport.  Now  then,  let's  clear  out." 

They  crept  back  the  way  they  came.  They  crossed 
the  stepping  stones  ;  they  stumbled  upon  Alf  Richards. 
He  was  lying  exactly  in  the  position  in  which  he  was  left. 

"  I  don't  like  this,"  muttered  Godfree,  uneasily. 

He  knelt  down,  felt  the  man's  pulse,  then  his  heart. 
He  glanced  at  the  ashen  face.  The  eyes  were  staring. 
The  lips  were  partly  open.  A  little  blood  and  froth 
marked  them. 

"  My  God,  Parsons,  the  fellow's  dead  !  " 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other.  It  was  a 
catastrophe  totally  unlooked  for.  Anyhow,  they  were 
not  responsible  for  his  death.  And,  being  dead,  he 
could  say  nothing.  Fom  this  point  of  view  the  event 
was  all  to  the  good. 

"  Let's  leave  him  as  he  is,"  said  Parsons  in  a  low  voice. 
"  It  may  be  a  week  or  more  afore  anybody '11  find  him." 

"  That's  so." 

Parsons  had  already  turned  away,  and  Godfree  was 
about  to  follow  when  an  idea  suddenly  struck  him.  He 
took  the  cardboard  box  and  the  phial  of  "  dope  "  and 
thrust  them  into  Richard's  pocket. 

"  That'll  explain  everything,"   he  thought. 

Then  he  hurried  off. 

******** 

"  Mary,    I    feel    very   worried    about    Belphegor.     I 


248          A    QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK 

oughtn't  to  have  agreed,"  said  Peter  Gumley,  rubbing 
his  chin  with  an  air  of  uneasiness. 

"  I  told  you  so,  Peter.  You  shouldn't  have  said 
yes  to  such  a  wild  harum  scarum  idea." 

"  Well,  it's  done.  Anyhow,  there's  been  no  signal  and 
I  had  the  'phone  set  up  in  case  anything  went  wrong. 
I  wasn't  to  go  unless  I  heard." 

"  That's  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It's  pretty  nigh 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning  !  Go  and  see  if  it's  all  right." 

As  Peter  generally  obeyed  his  wife,  he  went. 
******** 

Three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  Within 
ten  minutes  or  so  the  great  race  for  the  Derby  stakes 
would  be  decided. 

The  Derby  Day  has  been  described  a  thousand  and 
one  times  more  or  less.  It  would  be  but  a  tedious 
repetition  to  attempt  to  do  so  again.  Interest  for 
the  present  purpose  is  centred  around  two  men,  Dan 
Westoby  and  George  Godfree.  The  latter  had  his 
right  arm  in  a  sling.  They  were  anxiously  awaiting 
the  horses. 

At  last  the  string  entered  the  course  and  cantered 
leisurely  to  the  starting  post.  Westoby  had  stationed 
himself  sufficiently  near  to  note  every  horse  and  every 
jockey  with  the  naked  eye,  but  for  all  that  he  used 
his  field  glasses. 

"  What  the  devil's  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  demanded 
Westoby  sharply.  "  Tim  Hollis  is  up  on  Belphegor." 

"  Rats  !  The"  boy  won't  be  fit  to  ride  for  a  week. 
I  left  him  last  night  lying  insensible.  I — by  God,  I 
believe  you're  right.  It  is  the  urchin." 

Most  certainly  it  was,  and  as  spry  and  as  healthy 
looking  as  he  could  possibly  be. 

"  You've  sold  me,  you  sneak,"  burst  out  Westoby. 

"  Sneak  yourself.  I  risked  everything  for  you,  and 
nearly  got  killed  in  the  bargain.  Parsons  must  have 
been  hoodwinked.  He  swore  that  Hollis  would  be  with 
the  horse  all  right.  We  doped  some  other  stabli  lad." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          249 

'  That's  a  lie.  Peter  wouldn't  be  such  an  ass. 
Belphegor  's  not  to  be  trusted  with  a  stranger." 

He  could  say  no  more.  The  horses  were  being  mar- 
shalled. They  were  off.  They  started  in  a  cluster,  the 
jockey's  caps  and  jackets  mingling  in  a  confused  mass 
of  colour.  In  half  a  minute  no  particular  horse  seemed 
prominent ;  then  a  blue  and  orange  darted  ahead. 
It  was  Killarney,  the  favourite.  Tom  Allworth  had 
shaken  his  mount  free  from  the  ruck  and  Killarney 
was  rushing  for  dear  life  close  to  the  rails. 

"  Damn  !  I  shall  pull  it  off  after  all,"  muttered 
Westoby.  "  Good  horse  ! — great  horse  !  " 

But  at  Tattenham  Corner  other  horses  were  creeping 
up.  Foremost  was  a  scarlet  and  black. 

"  Rouge  et  Noir  !  Her  colours.  Curse  the  woman. 
She  hasn't  forgotten  her  luck." 

The  thought  was  Westoby 's.  It  was  an  omen  of 
evil  for  him.  Violetta  was  not  now  his  mascotte  ! 

Yard  by  yard,  foot  by  foot  Belphegor  overhauled 
Killarney,  which  was  visibly  tiring.  Allworth  called 
upon  him  for  another  effort,  but  the  pace  was  too  good. 
Amid  an  uproar  almost  unparalleled,  Belphegor  passed 
the  post  half  a  length  in  front  of  the  favourite. 

Westoby  dropped  his  field  glasses  into  their  case  with 
a  bang.  He  turned  to  Godfree,  his  face  white  as  a 
sheet,  but  quite  cool  in  his  manner. 

"  This  lets  me  down  to  zero.  I  don't  know  whether 
I've  to  thank  you  or  Parsons,  or  the  boy,  or — the 
woman." 

"  Where  are  you  off  to  ?  "  whispered  Godfree, 
anxiously,  as  Westoby  was  striding  away. 

"Don't  know.    To  the  devil,  most  likely." 

He  and  Godfree,  who  was  sticking  to  him,  had  hardly 
got  out  of  the  crowd  when  a  police  inspector  with  a 
couple  of  men  who,  despite  their  plain  clothes,  had 
detective  written  all  over  them,  approached. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Dan  Westoby,  I  think." 

"  Well  ?  " 


250          A    QUEEN    OF   THE    PADDOCK 

"  And  your  friend's  name,  I  believe,  is  George 
Godfree." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  Out  with  it,"  said  Westoby, 
brusquely. 

"  I  hold  a  warrant  to  arrest  both  you  gentlemen  on  a 
charge  of  conspiracy." 

"  Confoundedly   vague.     Conspiring   to   do   what  ?  " 

"  To  do  bodily  injury  by  administering  a  noxious  drug 
to  one  Violetta  Vaughan,"  returned  the  inspector, 
reading  from  the  document  in  his  hand. 

"  By  God,  she's  done  us !  "  burst  out  Godfree, 
furiously. 


It  was  so.  Violetta's  plan  was  to  dress  herself  in 
Tim's  clothes  and  take  his  place  by  the  side  of  Belphegor. 
She  was  dozing  when  Godfree  and  Parsons  took  her  by 
surprise.  But  she  recognised  Godfree  and  she  had  not 
quite  succumbed  to  the  effects  of  the  chloroform  when 
Belphegor  shot  out  his  hoof.  Had  Godfree  tried  to 
shift  the  blame  on  to  Alf  Richards,  his  injured  shoulder 
would  have  given  him  the  lie.  But  there  was  no 
necessity.  Parsons,  to  save  his  own  skin  as  much  as 
possible,  gave  his  employers  away. 

Violetta,  unconscious,  was  of  course  discovered  by 
Peter  Gumley,  and  a  doctor  was  instantly  summoned. 
The  quantity  of  the  dope  she  had  swallowed  was  for- 
tunately very  small,  and  she  speedily  recovered. 


The  last  scene.     (Enter  Violetta  and  Lord  Verschoyle). 

VIOLETTA  :  "  Now  that  I've  told  you  all  my 

past,  you  may  want  more  time 
to  think  over  the  matter.  In 
marrying  me  you're  marrying  a 
great  risk,  you  know." 


A   QUEEN    OF   THE   PADDOCK          251 

LORD  VERSCHOYLE  :  "  I  don't  care  what  risk  I  run 
to  get  you,  Violetta,  and  I'll  not 
take  a  second  for  thought.  A 
woman  who  can  care  for  a  horse 
as  you  do  can  care  still  more  for 
a  man.  Dearest,  you're  my 
mascotte — for  life  !  " 


THE  END. 


PRINTED   AT   THE   DEVONSHIRE   PRESS,  TORQUAY,   ENGLAND. 


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